


This Is Not How I Planned My Weekend.

by princessladybug



Series: Masoch De Sade Universe [1]
Category: Firefly, NCIS, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom, Torchwood
Genre: Abby and Kaylee and Ianto are littles, Age Play, Alpha Males, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - BDSM, Anal Play, Anal Sex, BDSM, Bloodplay, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Clint Needs a Hug, Consensual Kink, Crossover, Daddy Kink, DiNozzo is a brat, Dirty Talk, Discipline, Dom/sub, Don't Try This At Home, Dubious Consent, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, I'm Going to Hell, M/M, Masturbation, Medical Kink, Mentions of past child abuse, Multi, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn With Plot, Pre-Slash, Shameless Smut, Shower Sex, Slash, Spanking, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, This List Keeps Growing, Threesome - F/M/M, Time Travel, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Triggers, WTF, Where did that plot come from?, Why Did I Write This?, Zoe is the bomb
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-13
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2017-12-29 07:45:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 84,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1002797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessladybug/pseuds/princessladybug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>NCIS is called to investigate the appearance of a US Marine from 1955 in Cardiff, Wales. They are paired with a local investigating team, Torchwood. When their leader Captain Jack Harkness tries to convince them that the Marines had been sucked through a rift in space and time, they are hard pressed to believe that information. </p><p>That is until in another time dimension Captain Malcolm Reynolds flies through a space rift to avoid a run in with the Alliance. That chain of events triggers the rift that NCIS and Torchwood is working on.  All of the teams, including Phil Coulson and his two top S.H.I.E.L.D agents end up in the future. They are forced to land on a planet that practices all forms of BDSM lifestyle. Unless Jack Harkness can rendezvous with The Doctor, there is no telling when they will be rescued. The unlikely group is forced to redefine existing relationships and create new ones. Some, have too much fun doing just that.</p><p>Warning: After the plot is written the stories will be shameless, kink smut. Based on my own fancies and what readers request. Pairings are not set in stone and can be switched in and out as desired. Neither are D/s dynamics.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. This is Bad. Very, Very Bad.

**Author's Note:**

> Some things to consider when reading this fic.  
> 1.) I try and keep the characters as IC as possible, however, this is a AU and they do shift into D/s dynamics later. This being said, it is important to have an estimate of the timeline I am basing the character off of. NCIS- pretty much anywhere in the series, I don’t have to force a lot of things with this team to make it work. Torchwood- I have not finished Doctor Who yet, so I’m writing mostly based on Torchwood Jack. As I watch, I’m sure to get more information on his character and story. Obviously, Tosh and Owen and Ianto still live. So... this is sometime before the last episode of Season 2 and Children of Earth defiantly did not happen. Firefly- I try to ignore the movie. S.H.I.E.L.D- Coulson Lives.  
> 2.) I do most of my work on my free time, I’m a college student, and very busy. Sometimes chapters will come quickly. Other times they will not.  
> 3.) I do my own editing, hence why things take me so long to post. I can whip out chapters like no ones business, but I try and make them as error free as possible. I do not have a beta at this time.  
> 4.) I do this for fun. I’m okay with corrective feedback to help me improve my work, but any negativity will be ignored. This is not a job for me, I don’t live my life to write fan-fiction perfectly. I do this for my own pleasure, and for yours.  
> 5.) BDSM/Kink/AgePlay... all types of alternative sex lifestyles are based on hours and hours of communication and consent. Do not try this at home just for funsies. Do you research, talk to your partner. Sure it’s fun to read about and fap too, but some of the stuff is not only physically dangerous, but can emotionally manipulate a person to an unhealthy level.  
> 6.) As with any work, I want to hear from you. What do you want from this story? What pairings? What story lines? Comments are encourage and welcomed. FEEDBACK! FEEDBACK! FEEDBACK!

Leroy Jethro Gibbs was not custom to transporting his team to another country. He considered it a good day when he did not have to drive more then two hours to the scene of the crime. Today, the Director had informed him that his team was needed in Wales. 

Sitting at his desk, he flipped through the folder in front of him as he drunk his coffee. Sure, there was likely a more detailed digital file, but he preferred his manila folder. He was confident that there would not be viruses or worms or whatever digital files got nowa-days.

“Morning Boss!” 

Gibbs did not look up. He did not have too. What kind of leader would he be if he did not know the voice of his team? It was Anthony DiNozzo, and Gibbs had been expecting him before the younger man announced his presence. It was 8:01 on a Thursday, and Tony always arrived at the same time every Thursday. For what reason, Gibbs could not be sure. What his team did on their own time, was their business. He did have a hunch that it involved a cute girl at the Starbucks, though.

“What’s on the menu today,” Tony was standing beside him in a second.

Jethro still did not look up. He still did not have too. He had memorized everything about his team. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a soft blue and knew that Tony was wearing a collared button up with black slacks. The men in his team did not generally surprise him with their wardrobe, even Ziva was uncontroversial, but Abby was another story. 

Tony was slightly taller then him, and Gibbs was certain that at this moment he was using those precious few inches and his tip toes to get a glimpse of the file in his hands.

“Cardiff,” Gibbs replied as he shut the folder and gave Tony a look. Tony took a step back before pretending to be picking at a button on his shirt.

“Maryland?” he asked as he raised an eyebrow.

“No.” Jethro replied simply. “Wales.”

“Wales?” Tony never asked to many question, and this was not one of them. This was a confirmation. Where Gibbs led, he followed.

Jethro admired the ultimate trust that the team had for him. Tony was quite capable of making his own decisions, but he never did. They were independent enough to work on their own, solving crime scenes without Gibbs holding their hands, but every team needed a good leader. He just called the shots when needed, and took the fall from the director. His team was good. That did not happen often. “When McGee gets here tell him that we need plane tickets.”

“For how many boss?” Tony was already striding back to his desk to make notes.

“Six.” Gibbs saw Ziva David getting off the elevator. He chugged the last of his coffee, as she entered the box.

“Good Morning!”

Gibbs liked Ziva. At first, he had suspected that Ziva replaced a role on his team, but it soon became clear that Ziva was Ziva, and that no one could ever replace Kate in their hearts. Ziva had her own admiral way of making the team complete. Most people under estimate women in power positions, assuming that they will be weaker in times of crisis or more sensitive. Not Ziva. She braved every situation with an attitude of professionalism that made Gibbs proud.

“Morning Mrs. Dalloway,” Tony greeted.

“I do not understand,” Ziva looked to Gibb’s for clarification.

“We’re going to the UK for our next case,” Gibbs told her. “Missing US Marines showing up fifty years later.”

“Alive?” Tony questioned with a puzzled expression. “We don’t usually deal with live bodies, boss.”

“Some of them,” was all that Jethro answered him. He watched Ziva take her desk. He had put a brief there, and she began to look over it.

“Jurisdiction?” Of course Ziva would ask.

“Like I said, some of them are still alive so jurisdiction isn’t an issue,” Gibbs replied. He gave Tony the folder that he had been holding, so he could review the case. “And the ones that aren’t, it doesn’t seem to be a murder so there is no jurisdiction yet.”

“If these aren’t crime scenes…” Ziva scrunched up her face trying to figure it out. “Then…why?”

“Classified.” Jethro muttered, and that was about all that he knew. His boss had something about an organization called Torchwood. He’d used the word Top Secret, but to Gibbs, that was subjective.

“What are the names on those tickets boss?” McGee muttered as he joined them. He seemed in a hurry, and to already know what they were expecting of him. Jethro looked around with his eyebrows raised.

“Text message,” Tony said waving around his phone, avoiding his bosses eye contact.

“What part of classified is unclear to you, DiNozzo?” Gibbs asked him. He had half a mind to smack him, but it was too early in the day for head smacking, and they had a very long flight ahead of them.

“Sorry boss,” Tony slinked back to his chair. He would pretend to be invisible for a few minutes.

“Names are in the folder on your desk, McGee,” Gibbs stopped glaring, long enough to answer Timothy McGee’s original question.

McGee slid into his chair and he was on the computer quicker then Jethro could even realize that he had joined them. Watching him log into the computer, Jethro came around behind him and slid him a paper from the folder. Timothy McGee was not kept around just because he had skill beyond compare on computers, but because he had proved himself as an agent. Sure, he was not as vocal as the other two, and slightly more vunerable, but it had never affected his place on this team. In fact, it gave him his own special role as the little brother.

“We’re bringing Abby and Jimmy?” Tim questioned as he looked over the list.

“Need my team with me,” Gibbs told him. He rounded the desk and left them. “Get your stuff together. I want those tickets for the first flight out of here!” He was going to leave now, before they asked more question.

“God save the Queen!” He heard Tony say. Gibbs got on the elevator grinning.

 

***

“Your coffee, sir.”

Ianto Jones put the mug of coffee on the desk of his boss. Captain Jack Harkness was ignoring him though. Not on purpose, he would never ignore Ianto on purpose, it was too convenient for his sexual pleasure to not ignore the young, Welsh man. Consequently he was on the phone with… Who was on the phone with? Director Vance. Someone from America and the Naval Crime Scene Investigation. He hated American’s. It could be argued that he, himself, was American, but then again everything in Jack’s life was up for interpretation.

“Look, Torchwood has this under control,” Jack muttered into the phone for what seemed like the hundredth time. Marines go MIA all the time, it’s nothing new. Yes, I know… but not from 50 years ago.” He paused so the other man could yell in the phone. When he was done, Jack used his charming personality and spoke low into the phone. “Look… if you send a team you are putting your agency and my agency at risk. This is a classified matter, and I’m not responsible for what may happen.”

A few more minutes of fighting and Jack just hung up the phone. Ianto was still standing there, waiting patiently with his hands folded in front of him. Jack motioned for him to come over. Ianto did, never ignoring an order from Jack.

“Damn your suit,” Jack muttered as Ianto faced him and he stood up. He slid his hand up his team members thigh, around his waist, and around to the younger man’s backside. Cupping it, he squeezed and pulled him closer.

“As a memo, Sir, I must remind you that you like this suit,” Ianto bit his lip and exhaled loudly.

“I like it better off of you,” Jack told him leaning in for a kiss.

Ianto let him, but just barely. Not one of their most passionate kisses, but Jack understood. The rest of the team would be here soon, and that made Ianto uncomfortable. Jack knew that Ianto was not ashamed of him, but he respected the fact that Ianto was more reserved about sexuality then he was.

Ianto cleared his throat before he stepped back as Gwen entered. She was used to seeing them uncouple as she walked in and she said nothing. Gwen was a sport about his relationship with Ianto, just like she was a sport for the team. She was the heart of the team, no literally, she was the bleeding, caring heart. She made them have morals, so it wasn’t suprising that she could care less about Jack’s undetermined sexuality.

“Was there a problem on the phone?” Ianto asked, making casual conversation to clear the awkward moment.

“Yeah, I will need you to get some retcon pills ready,” Jack said quickly, having to readjust—his demeanor and parts of his body— to a professional decorum. “We have some American’s coming to help us with the marines that are appearing at the church.”

“Bloody yanks,” they were joined by Owen, who leaned on Jack’s desk and reached over to take a biscuits that Ianto had brought with Jack’s coffee. Of course he would help himself, while Owen was an essential—and very cycnical—member of the team, he obviously did not care who was offended by his actions or words.

“You couldn’t talk them out of it,” Gwen asked Jack. She also took a biscuit and munched. 

“Please eat all my biscuits,” Jack rolled his eyes at the liberties that they took with his breakfast. “Do you think I would be suggesting retcon if I could talk them out of coming?” Gwen glared at him and was about to say something snarky. “I’m going to go get some more biscuits,” Ianto said quickly, turning to leave. He bumped into Tosh. “Sorry.”

“Is he okay?” Tosh asked as she entered the room. Tosh was really the glue that held them together though. No body had more information then Ianto… except for Tosh. She could jump on the computer and moniter rift activity in three seconds flat. Jack used to say that he felt sorry for Tosh, but now he admired her. She slept with an alien, a man from the past, and couldn’t have Owen… all of that and she still came to work every day with a smile.

“You know, Ianto,” Owen answerd as Jack and Gwen continued their glaring contest. “He can’t bare to see these to fight like an old married couple.”

“Shut up!” Gwen and Jack yelled at the same time.

“I think his point was just proven,” Tosh muttered, grinning at the young doctor. She took the last biscuit.

 

**

“I’m going to do everything that is stereotypically British,” Abby announced as they were going through customs at the Cardiff airport. “I’m going to eat bangers and mash, and chips!”

“Those are fries, right?” McGee asked as he presented his carry on for search. “Not actual chips.”

“Yes McNugget,” Tony answerd. “They’re thick cut and served with almost everything in an unholy obsession. Also, sorry to disappoint you Abs, but this is Wales.”

“Tony is right, Abby,” Ziva added as she too handed over her bag. “I think they are different worlds.”

“Countries,” Abby corrected scrutching her face. “But they are still part of Great Britain, I can still do British things.”

“If we have time Abbs,” Gibbs reminded her as her as a security gaurd wanded him over. It beeped at his waistband and he flashed his badge.

“Gibbs,” Abby pleaded as she followed him to the guard. “We can’t come to another country and not sightsee! That would be torture!” She made a funny face at the guard who was staring at her tattoos and choice of traveling attire. 

“Abby is right, sir,” Jimmy Palmer finally spoke up. He had been silent most of the trip, mostly because he had gotten altitude sickness and spent most of the flight in the very cramped bathroom, but it was natural for him to be the silent type. He fit in the team well enough, they liked him and joked with him, but he was more like the cute mascot then a team member. “We could go to Swansea, its supposed to be beautiful, and London is a four hour drive we could.”

“Stop talking Palmer,” Tony said as he faced his turn with the security guard. DiNozzo already has his badge out for when the wand started to beeping.

“I’ll meet you at baggage claim 4,” Gibbs announced as he was released from customs with a stamp to his passport. He headed off in the direction of baggage claim, his team scrambling behind him. 

“Look Gibbs!” Abby pointed at the man holding a sign which read NCIS. He was dressed in a snazzy three-piece suit with tidy hair and warming smile. “We are being escorted!”

“Jethro Gibbs?” The man asked as he dropped the sign and extended his hand. “I’m Ianto Jones, my boss, Captain Jack Harkness sent me for you. He would like me to take you directly to the location, or would you like to freshen up first?”

“I want to get to work Mr. Jones,” Gibbs answered without hesitation as he shook Ianto’s hand. “As soon as we get our bags, we can be on our way.”

“What’s with the suit?” Tony asked as he joined them at the luggage carousel.

“My boss likes me to wear it,” Ianto replied, stiffening, as he smoothed the jacket instinctively.

“And you do everything your boss says?” inquired DiNozzo with raised eyebrows.

Ianto cleared his throat as he continued to fiddle with the buttons on his suit. Before he could answer he watched with surprise as the older man stepped forward and smacked his younger team member on the back of the head. “This is my senior agent, Anthony DiNozzo,” Gibbs introduced, glaring at Tony with ice-blue eyes. “He is incapable of having nice manners or listening to his boss.”

Tony rubbed the back of his head, but did not say anything. He took a few minutes while they were waiting on their bags to introduce the rest of his team. Ianto greeted them all politely before he stepped back out of their way. Gibbs had almost thought he disappeared until Ianto stepped up to the take the Marine’s bag off the belt..

“Let me get that for you Sir,” Ianto said and he took the bag before Gibbs could lift it. Gibbs looked at Ianto with a puzzled expression. He was more then capable of carrying his own bag, but Jethro shrugged it off as some kind of British act of hospitality.

“Here suit boy, you can carry my bags,” Tony announced dropping his bag at Ianto’s feet. Ianto stared at it for a second, as if he was debating on if he should lift the bag or not. Instead taking Tony’s lugage, a smile appeared on his charming face. “It would be an honor, Mr. Dinnozo, however I am already carrying Mr. Gibbs’ bags and since he is your boss, I seem to be doing your job.”

Gibbs snorted and followed Ianto as he walked away, leaving Tony in a haze of confusion.

“It’s not my job!” He whispered petulantly.

“Apply cold water to the burn, Tony,” Abby said as she walked by with her bags.

 

***

It took a Torchwood vehicle and a rental car to get them all to the site of the rift activity. Gibbs had requested one thing of Ianto, and that was they stop for coffee. He was glad to oblige, knowing that the Torchwood team would like some coffee as well.

“So what is Torchwood, Ianto Jones?” Gibbs asked as they got back in the car with their coffee. 

“That is for my boss to tell you,” Ianto replied as he handed the tray of coffee’s back to whoever would grab them. “Hold onto those please, they are for my team.” Abby got them and sat them in her lap.

“And you can’t tell us anything about Torchwood?” Gibbs prodded further as he drank from his coffee cup.

“I could, but my boss wants to answer all the questions,” Ianto answered as he started the car. “I’m not much of a the PR person. I make the coffee and keep the records.”

“And run the errands,” Tony muttered from the back seat beside Abby.

“Dinnozo,” Gibbs muttered in a low voice.

“It’s alright, Mr. Gibbs,” Ianto said hurridly. “I know a lot of American people are still not used to the idea of a male doing work they have originally set aside for females.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tony asked accusingly.

“He means, Tony,” Abby answered for him. “That you expect administrative assistants to be women, and you can’t just get over the fact that men and women can do the same jobs.”

“That’s not true!” Tony defended, he almost spilt coffee on himself as Ianto pulled up onto the curb and stopped the car abruptly.

“It’s not DiNozzo?” Gibss asked, he was checking the younger agent with a look in the rearview mirror before unbuckling and getting out of the car. “Abby sounds like she knows what she is talking about.”

“Okay maybe,” Tony muttered wearing a very not impressed face. He opened the door and climbed out, still muttering. “I can’t stand that he wear a suit better then I do.”

“Nobody wears a suit better then Ianto Jones,” said the man waiting for him outside of the building. “Except for you, you might wear a suit better.” Jack had laid eyes on Jethro Gibbs, and it was obvious that he liked what he saw.

“Jack Harkness,” He extended his hand to greet the Marine who had developed a glare. “Okay. That answer’s my question. Straight laced, should have expected that coming from a Marine.”

“Can you just brief me on the situation,” Gibbs demanded. He brushed past the extended hand and proceeded to the door.

“Good going,” Gwen muttered stalking past Jack to follow Gibbs into the abandoned church.

“You’ll have to excuse Jack,” she said. “He’s a little over zelous when he see’s something,-

“Or someone,” Owen interjected.

“That he likes,” Gwen glared at Owen. He was not helping the situation.

“I don’t ask questions,” muttered Gibbs as he surveyed the scene. “Abby sleeps in a coffin.” Gibbs nodded in the direction of the gothic girl, who had pulled out her black, lace parasol. He thought that seemed comparable for different lifestyle choices, and he had never judged Abby.

“Kinky,” muttered Owen, winking at Abby.

“Maybe we should just get NCIS caught up on the situation,” Tosh suggested as she pulled out her lap top.

“I like her,” Gibbs acknowledge “First two words of sence spoken together since we got out of the car.”

“Okay,” Jack took the ball. “Time travel. That is the answer to your mysterious Marine appearances.”

The entire NCIS team looked at Jack in confusion. In fact, the Torchwood team was mimicking their looks. Jack might be blatantly blunt when he saw a person he liked, but he was typically good about keeping Torchwood a secret.

“Seriously?” Tony had pulled out his camera, and he dropped it in disbelief. “Next you’ll ask us to believe about aliens and spaceships.”

 

**

“Get my ship out of this right now!”

Captain Mal Reynolds gripped onto the chair that his fearless pilot sat in. Wash was making A class maneuvers, but the Alliance was quick on their tail.

“Kaylee,” Mal said into the speaker. “I need full power!”

“I can’t push her any hotter Captain, I’ll blow a coil,” Kaylee shouted as she fidgeted with what she could, but Serenity was running at full capacity.

“Wash,” Mal growled in a demanding tone. “Do something.”

“There!” Zoe pointed out the window. In the distance was a hazy, purple cloud. “Space rift.”

Mal stared at it for a few long seconds. He had heard space travelers talk about these before, a rift in space that jumped through time. Once he had heard it was the result of a black hole that sucked up another black hole, but Mal knew that was impossible, space rifts popped up without reason, and this was just their luck.

“Go for it Wash,” Mal ordered, making a last minute choice. It could be bad, but being caught by the Aliance with illegal cargo on board would be worse. Alliance wouldn’t dare follow them into a space rift.

“Captian?” Wash questioned, he had to confirm the order.

“It’s an order Wash!” Mal commended as he went to one of the fold out seats in the cock-pit. Once he was secure he pulled down the microphone for the comm system. “Keep you hands, feet, and naughty bits inside the ride at all times and strap in because there is a” He let go of the button and looked at his first mate who was kissing Wash before she went to strap herself in. “… what would say is the percentage of death Zoe?”

She pulled the belt over her shoulders. “75%, sir.”

Mal shrugged and his voice rang out over the loud speaker again. “75 percent of death. That leaves twenty percent of disintegration or displacement. 5% of survival!”

Mal couldn’t see them, but he knew that each of his crew members was getting to a secure location on his ship. At least he hoped that was happening. He prayed to some non-existant deity that they were.

“Kaylee!”

“I gotta keep the thruster engaged, and the sprokets oiled or she’ll freeze up!” Kayle shouted over the noise of the engine at Jayne who had joined her in the engine room.

“Captain said strap in,” Jayne yelled back, trying to catch up with the smaller girl, who ducked under a moving part.

“She needs a loving hand!” Kaylee kept working. She pulled a lever and grabbed a wrench and hit a shaking part, it settled into places.

“And you need to not die,” Jayne said as he finally caught up to the mousy girl. Wrapping his arm around her waste, he hauled her easily out of the engine room. She thrashed and kicked, but was no match for him. He wrestled her into a chair. “Now strap in.”

She had no choice to comply.

Below them, Simon was coaxing his little sister into one of the designated crash safety chairs.

“That’s right River,” Simon said gently, helping her sit down. She looked around at the shaking ship with panic. “It’s okay, the captain just wants us to be safe just in case.”

“It will be like Christmas,” River said as Simon buckled the belt around her. “The visitors will come from far away.”

Simon ignored it, only River knew what she was talking about. He sat beside her and buckled himself in.

“They’re coming. New friends!”

 

**

 

“They were serious,” Jimmy mumbled under his breath after they had spent the last few minutes talking about rifts, aliens, and time travel.

“I always knew there was something hinky that was being covered up,” Abby started. She was practically bouncing, of course, she bought all of this. “Have you ever actually researched Area 51… I mean.”

“Abby,” Gibbs interrupted sternly. She abruptly stopped with a bite of her lip. “You’re expecting me to believe that these Marines were sucked into a time rift, and are showing up fifty years later.”

“Yup, pretty much,” Jack crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s almost like when you’re ten and they tell you Santa Clause doesn’t exist.”

“Heartbreaking,” Ianto muttered with a sad puppy dog look.

“The lie of all lies,” Jack continued, engaging in one of their own cheeky side conversations. “Of course after you’ve been ten once, no matter how many times you go back in time to relive that moment… it never stops hurting.

Gibbs cleared his throat.

“Right,” Jack clapped his hands together. “No mystery to solve, maybe we can all go back to our base and have a drink!”

The building shook.

“What was that?” asked Ziva as she braced herself in the doorway.

“We have major rift activity, Jack,” Tosh announced looking up from her computer screen.

“Get them out of here!” Jack shouted, pushing Ianto towards the door. The building started to shake even harder, dust falling from the ceiling.

Gibbs put his arm around Abby and started towards the entrance that they came in. Ziva grabbed Palmer’s hand to follow her boss. McGee and Tony scrambled out of the way of a falling cross beam.

“Let’s go!”

Everything around the group was shaking so violently. The dust was so thick it was clouding vision. Jack and Gibbs could only hope they were directing their teams to an exit.

Suddenly, everything was silent and still. They all stopped running, someone coughed. As the dust cleared, Gibbs looked for the lighted windows to tell him which direction to get them out, but there was no natural light. Around them were no longer the walls of the abandoned church, but crates and boxes. The ceiling was no longer cross beams and wood pillars used to hold up the steeple, but metal panales that had been welded together. They were in a cargo or shipping bay of some sort.

“What the hell is going on?” Gibbs demanded, turning to Jack, his arm still protectively around Abby, who was coughing.

“Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!” Jack had taken off and was climbing some metal staircases.

“Rift activity closed,” Tosh whispered as she looked at the small screen she held in her hand.

“Now do you believe in time traveling,” Owen shouted running his fingers through his hair. This was bad. Very, very bad.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1). This chapter is short. I had planned on combining it with chapter 3, but that one is turning out to be 4000+ words.  
> 2). We're still pretty vanilla, but I promise that kinky smut will be in the next chapter.   
> 3.)BDSM/Kink/AgePlay... all types of alternative sex lifestyles are based on hours and hours of communication and consent. Do not try this at home just for funsies. Do you research, talk to your partner. Sure it’s fun to read about and fap too, but some of the stuff is not only physically dangerous, but can emotionally manipulate a person to an unhealthy level.

Jack rushed up into the cockpit. He was somewhat familiar with the Firefly ship class. They were all alike, he could find the cockpit easily enough. Past the engine room, he was able to slip past a large man helping a women out of what looked like a car seat.

“Who the hell are you?”

Jack was at gun point before he even passed the second round of bunks in the long hallway. The man, who he could only assume was the captain of the ship walked him towards the cockpit, where he was met with the barrel of a shotgun in the hands of a chocolate skinned Amazon.

“Hello, aren’t you gorgeous,” Jack greeted, winking at Zoe.

“Hands off!” Wash shouted from the control panel where he was still trying to recover from their trip into the rift.

“Wasn’t touching her,” Jack muttered, still grinning. “Just undressing her with my eyes.”

Zoe cocked the gun in his face.

“Whoa whoa,” Jack said quickly holding up his hands in defense. “Look, I’m not your enemy, this is a long story and I would really like to explain without guns pointed at my head.”

“This is my ship,” said Mal from behind him, his gun not moving. “I’ll do the talkin’.”

            Another gun clicked, and Ianto pointed the barrel of his own handgun at Mal. “Wrong, I’ll do the talking.”

            “Ianto, we’re on their turf, we’ll let them talk,” Jack said. He dropped his hands and began to turn around to persuade Ianto to drop the gun.

            BANG!

            Wash had been the one to shoot. Jack began to collapse to the floor.

            “You shot him!” Ianto shouted. He tossed the gun and fell to catch Jack into his arms before the body hit the grates.

            “He was undressing my wife with his eyes,”  Wash muttered trying to defend himself from Mal's glare. “And he moved!”

            “Now he’s going to be cranky,” Ianto muttered as he took Jack’s head into his lap.

            “Cranky?” Mal echoed as he holstered his gun. “He’s gonna be dead.”

            Suddenly, the cockpit was full of people. Everyone else on board had come to the aide of the gunshot, not knowing what it had meant, and who had been shot. All of them were pointing guns, but none of them were sure who to point at and why?

            “Jack got shot again,” Gwen rolled her eyes and put her gun up. “He probably ran his mouth.”

            “What the gorram is going on?!” Mal demanded over the commotion. No one answered, there was still too much chaos.

            They all jumped as Jack sat up grasping for breath. He sat up in Ianto’s arms, and Ianto held him tightly.

            “Zombie!”

            “Not Ag-” But before he could finish, Wash had shot him again.

            “Could you stop shooting our boss!?” Gwen demanded kneeling beside Jack and Ianto.

            “We shot him. He was dead.” Mal said in disbelief.

            “I bet you were the top of your class,” Ianto muttered still cradling Jack’s head.

            “Gimme that,” Mal yanked the gun from Wash’s hand.

            “Sorry,” Wash mouthed. Zoe snorted and shook her head.

            Gibbs had been silent, but he holstered his gun and stepped forward. “Look, I don’t know what is going on here, but I think the man you keep shooting has answers.”

            “Well he can’t give them to us now,” Tony muttered as he followed his bosses lead and put his gun up. Ziva and McGee followed suit.

            “Jack can’t die!” Owen brushed past Tony and joined the rest of his team on the floor next to their leader. He ripped open Jack’s shirt, and buttons flew everywhere. The hole in his stomach was healing as they watched. Before it closed up, Owen stuck his fingers in and pulled out the buckshot.

            Jack gasped himself back to life again. He looked down, cringing in pain. “I guess you could say that you fingered me, Owen.”

            BANG!

            Jack prepared himself to die again, but it was not aimed at him. Mal had fired the gun he had taken from Wash into the grates above. It got everyone’s attention. “I want some answers, and I want them now.”

            “I’m here Cap’n! I brought Vera! Who needs shot!?” As normal, Jayne arrived fashionably late, brandishing his prized weapon.

            “No one!” Said all the Torchwood team from the floor.

            “Mal,” Inara’s voice called frantically over the comm. System. “There are strange people on my shuttle.”

            “More of you?” Mal asked rushing out of the cockpit. “No more shooting!” He called back.

            Jack stood to his feet quickly. “Hey you! Other Captain!” Jack was on Mal’s heels. “If there are more of us, I don’t know who they are. Everyone that was with me was in the cockpit.”

            Mal whirled around to face him. “How did you get on my boat?!”

            “Have you had in run in with a space and time rift?” Jack asked, hoping this was that simple.

            Mal rolled his eyes skyward. This was his fault. “We flew through a space rift,” he admitted sullenly.

            “We were in a rift space too at the same time, they crossed,” Jack tried to explain, still trying to be as simple as possible. “I can honestly tell you, I don’t know who else is on this ship, because I don’t know who might have got sucked in from different parts of time.”

            “Cover me,” Mal said as they reached Inara’s shuttle door. They both drew their weapons and moved on either side of the door. Mal reached up and punched in a code, the door swished open, and he went in gun first.

            A man in a suit raised his hands in the air. “We’re not here to cause problems,” said the tall, balding man. “My name is Agent Coulson and this is my team.”

***

            Mal called a meeting. There were too many people on his boat and he wanted to meet with the ‘leaders,’ or at least those that seemed to identify as leaders. He brought Zoe along, she was always a good sense of reason, and a great shot if things got out of hand.

            The man that introduced himself as Agent Gibbs did not bring anyone to the meeting. He said that he could fill his team in later once decisions were made. Mal like him, he was quite, but to the point. He didn’t shoot—his gun or his mouth—off without thinking.

            Agent Coulson seemed to be level headed too. He mentioned the absence of a man name Fury, who gave them all orders and that he was now in command. The other two people with him seemed to buy it, and had no objections for Phil speaking for them.

            Mal could not stand the man named Jack Harkness. He was arrogant and cocky, in ways that Mal despised. At first, he had insisted bringing his whole team, claiming that they had the most information on the subject at hand. While that may had been true, Mal knew that too many voices in a situation of panic got nothing solveed. Mal drew the line. Jethro, backed him up. Jack brought the Asian women, looking disgruntled about having to leave the boy in the suit behind.

            “Tosh,” Jack broke the awkward silence that had settled in the cockpit of Serenity. “Can you tell them what you know.”

            “I plugged my computer up in the mainframe of your ship Captain Reynolds,” Tosh explained, opening her lap top. “I had to convert to another type of power source, but that was not the most difficult part. The hard part is that this ship uses lines of code won’t be created for my computer system for 500 years.”

            “And that does us good how?” Mal prodded. He leaned back in his cockpit chair. Gibbs and Agent Coulson stayed silent.

            “Well, we have some experience with future technology,” Tosh explained as she expertly worked away on her computer. “We wouldn’t be Torchwood if we didn’t.” She looked around expecting a reply, but none of the men answered her, just stared intently.

            “Well..um…” She pulled up a screen. “I coverted the code using this.” She held up a strange looking device. Jack seemed to know what it was, but it puzzled everyone else. “I was able to get a relative lock on our location in space and in time.”

            “Agent Coulson , NCIS and Torchwood are both from the 21st Century,” Tosh explained as the screen beeped and whirled and showed pretty pictures that made no since. “Based on the coding, the crew of Serenity is based around the year 2520.”

            “Are you saying that we traveled 500 years in the future,” Agent Gibbs leaned forward, his hands crossing in front of his face.

            “No sir,” Tosh answered swallowing. “I’m just saying that was the relative time period that Captain Reynolds is familiar with.” She paused and turned to look at them removing her glasses. “I can’t be certain, but I’m trying to say we travled about 1000 years into the future.”

            “So…” Coulson muttered under his breath. “No one is in their familiar time line.” He looked at Mal with a disappointed look, he had hoped that this was his present. That would give them a connection to the world, and hopefully a way out. No such luck.

            “I don’t even think Captain Reynolds knows where we are,” Tosh admitted. She pulled up other programs. “I used some star charts that Torchwood had from special transfers, I was able to tap into the radar system of this ship and bounce it off satellites all over the universe. Relative location is about 300 Klicks away from the orbit of this planetary system.”

            “How do you have star charts like that?” Gibbs asked. He wasn’t the man to show weakness, but there was a hint of disbelief in his voice.

            Tosh looked at Jack, as if expecting him to answer.

            “Aliens.” He said simply.

            Mal and Jethro exchanged looks before the space pilot broke out into laughter and the Marine shook his head. Tosh blinked and behind her Zoe hid a smile. Agent Coulson remained still.

            “You want me to believe you got universe maps from alien software?” Mal demanded, recovering.

            “When you woke up this morning, did you think time travel was possible?” Jack challenged.

            “Fair point,” Mal admitted, crossing his arms. “But aliens... really?”

            “Aliens exist,” Coulson finally said. “My team was involved in a situation in New York.” 

            “That was you?” Jack blinked at him. “Thanks for throwing all my cover up work out the window.”

            “You’re welcome. We saved the world.”

            “So have I-

            “We can scrap later,” Gibbs cut off Jack. “What is this planet we are close too, and how do we get back… if we can?”

            “Tosh can you get that information?” Jack asked. Tosh nodded and began to type away quickly on the keyboard. “As for getting back… if we jumped in another rift there is no telling where it would put us. It was complete coincidence that we all landed here on this ship.”

            “So you are saying…” Gibbs prodded, realizing the serious of this situation, but not wanting to accept the reality just yet.

            “I know a Doctor that can help us, but…” Jack trailed off. “There is no telling if and when we will run into him.”

            “I’m sure that that my agency has noticed the disappearance of me and my team,” Agent Coulson announced. He stood up and turned his back to the rest of the them. “We have the resources to fix this.”

            “Let’s hope so.” Gibbs said quietly. It was easier for him, but inside his heart broke for his team. They had family, friends, lives. He hated this for them.

            “Jack, look at this,” Tosh pointed at the screen. Mal got a good look at the planet in question. It looked much like Earth, or what he had been told of what Earth looked like. He could not read any of the other information, but it looked nice. It could be worse, right? His crew was on the run anyway. They did not have family to speak off, as long as they were safe Mal was doing his job.

            “Captain Reynolds,” Jack said quickly, closing the screen. “How thin are our resources? Can we get to another planet?”

            “Dunno, we sucked up a lot of fuel when we made that jump through the rift,” Mal admitted. Kaylee had mentioned parts too, but he did not have a complete inventory.

            “What are you not telling us, Harkness?” Gibbs demanded. He recognized a man trying to hide information.

            “If we land on this planet, we are likely going to be stuck for a while,” Jack told them, he put his hands in his pocket warily. “There is no guarantee that the fuel for this craft even exists 500 years in the future, and air space on this planet is restricted. It would take years to get a permit to fly.”

            “How do you know all this?” asked Coulson. None of this sounded good at all.

            “I’ve been there.”  Jack admitted.

            “Oh come on,” Mal threw his hands skyward. “You expect me to believe that.”

            “Captain Reynolds,” Jehtro said quietly, not moving from his seat. “I saw this man die today… I think he knows what he’s talking about.”

            Agent Coulson shrugged, agreeing with Gibbs silently. Mal groaned, but conceded. “So why not this planet? Does it have aliens?”

            “No. It’s mostly humans,” Jack went on to explain as Mal snorted. He walked away from Tosh and leaned forward. He stared out into the black, remembering his time traveling days.

            “The planets has been called Masoch De Sade,” Jack informed them, he paused as if waiting for something to piece together in their minds. “It started out a refugee planet for human with alternative lifestyles. Which if you know your sexual  history, those name of this planet should ring a bell.”

            “Alternative lifestyles? Like you,” Agent Gibbs muttered, remember how Jack hit on him, but he had no reference for the planet name.

            “No, though everyone on this planet has a fluid sexuality,” Jack chuckled at the memory. “Its more of… I have no idea how to explain this.”

            Everyone stared at him. Even Tosh was confused by his lack of words. Jack had never been one to keep anything back when it needed to be said.

            “Captain Harkness,” Coulson finally said with a huge sigh. “We have already been pulled from our lives and have to accept the fact that we may or may not get back, there isn’t much more that can shock us.”

            “I wouldn’t say that,” Mal muttered, rolling his eyes.

            “People on this planet live in roles,” Jack went on, trying to explain where everyone could explain. “I guess Agent Coulson and Agent Gibbs would know that back in our timeline people played kinky games. Things that delt with BDSM.”

            Gibbs and Coulson exchanged looks, but they nodded.

            “Captain Reynolds, do you know that means?” Jack asked. Mal looked puzzled.

            “I do,” he hesitantly admitted.

            “These people live that, all the time,” Jack told them. “Hence the name. Masoch De Sade. The individuals that the English language attributes the words sadism and masochism too.” 

            “Alright, so this planets is a little freaky.” Agent Gibbs looked like his brain was going to explode. “But that doesn’t affect us.”

            “It will if we get stuck there,” Tosh spoke for Jack. She had re-opened her computer and was scrolling through the pages. “Information is done coding. It says that all refugees will be taken through citizenship, evaluated, and given a role within the community.”

            “We can’t just be normal?” Mal posed the question. He wasn’t much of a kinky fellow.

            “You could try,” replied Jack, he was still muddling over in his mind other options. “This planet is for refugee’s, like we said. If we posed as anything different, we would threaten their delicate way of life and we could possibly be executed.”

            There was silence. It was if they were all taking in the reality of their situation. Gibbs was resting his hands in his head, Agent Coulson was rubbing his chin in thought, Malcolm Reynolds was pacing the grated floor.

            “We’re sure there is not enough fuel to get us to another location,” Zoe broke the silence. They all looked at her, she was calm and collected. Of course she was. That was what Zoe did.

            Tosh began to type away vigorously, and they all looked at her for an answer. Jack couldn’t help but chuckle inwardly at her lack of poker face when she broke the news.  “There is not another planet that is inhabitable in this system.”

            “Damnit!” It was Mal that let loose the frustration they were all feeling. His boot kicked at a metal panel repeatedly until it dented.

            “We have to make by with what we have,” Gibbs said rationally. “I’m not happy, but I have to protect my team. If this is the easiest way, we’ll come up with a solution.”

            “Same here,” Agent Coulson nodded in agreement.

            Jack shrugged in agreement. Torchwood was prepared to handle all situations, even ones where they would have to change their sexual lifestyle. It probably would not be that difficult for them anyway.

            They all waited on Mal. He was staring at the dent in the panel. “I’ll need more information,” He finally sighed. “I can’t tell my crew that we’re gonna do this without being able have more answers.”

            “I can help,” Jack admitted.

            “And so can Abby,” Jethro volunteered. He knew that Abby dabbled in her own special lifestyle. He never asked, and she never told, but he knew.

            “Fair enough,” Agent Coulson rose from his chair. “Brief your teams with current information.  Captain Renyolds, this is your cockpit, your crew can meet in here. If your friend does not mind, I would like to meet with my team in the same place that we arrived, in that shuttle. We’ll assemble in the cargo area in 3 hours for further briefing. Jack? Jethro?”

            “The cargo bay works for us,” Gibbs answered simply. It was a big space, big enough for them to take personal time if they needed.

            “We’ll take the kitchen,” Jack informed them. “All Firefly classes are the same, I think I can find it.”

            With that, they separated in quiet.

 

           

 

           

           

 


	3. Lessons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1.) Here is the start of the explicit smut that has been long overdue.  
> 2.) This chapter is only proofread once, its 6000+ words. You try proofreading your own work more then once. LOL.  
> 3.) I do not know when the next chapter/installment will be out. I'm not sure who to begin with. I have a few drabbles between Tony/Gibbs, Jack/Ianto, Kaylee/Mal/Zoe. I may combine those and submit. Nothing actually on the planets and very little relationship development. I will work on tha this weekend. Which happens to be fall break. I also got a new job (Thank the powers that be!) and that will take up more time, so things will come slower now. My apologies.I am more tempted to write if you feed the plot bunnies. So Feedback is awesome!  
> 4.) Remember. These D/s relationships and pairings are not set in stone. I can write pretty much any pairing with a logical reason. If you have a request or want to see something. Let me know.  
> 5.)BDSM/Kink/AgePlay... all types of alternative sex lifestyles are based on hours and hours of communication and consent. Do not try this at home just for funsies. Do you research, talk to your partner. Sure it’s fun to read about and fap too, but some of the stuff is not only physically dangerous, but can emotionally manipulate a person to an unhealthy level.

            At the briefing, it was decided to table things for several days. Many individuals had to deal with the fact there they were not going to get back to their lives for an undetermined amount of time, maybe never. The four established leaders decided it would be best to wait for an informative talk on how to go on living lives on this planet. They took shifts sleeping in bunks, some people made pallets on the cargo bay floor, but heat did not regulate there, so it was to cold for most. They had to ration off the food supply, but they could manage for a few days. Most of the new comers could not hold down food anyway. The time was coming when they would need to land, and things needed to be discussed. The time was now.

            “I’m calling a meeting in the cargo bay,” Agent Coulson announced as they ate dinner that night. They all crammed into the very tiny kitchen area, the crew of Firefly finished off their plates and everyone else picked at theirs. “A presentation has been put together to give all of you more information on the lifestyle.”

            “Can I just say what we are all thinking?” said Tony DiNozzo over the clink of cutlery. “No body wants to do this.”

            “Speak for yourself,” Jack muttered, putting his arm around Ianto.

            “Not everyone takes in the ass like your suit boy,” DiNozzo accused glaring.

            “Oi!” Gwen shouted. Ianto stood up, meeting Tony’s glare with one of his own.  Several other people moved too, surprisingly the quite, but scary red-headed agent that was with Coulson got between them.

            “Tony, don’t do this,” Natasha said softly.  “Put your pride away, it is showing.”

            “We’re all tense,” Owen stood up at the head of the table. “Fight or flight is a natural response to panic. This is a scary thing. Fighting each other is not going to help us though this, and we can’t fly.”

            “He’s right,” chimed in Simon. “I don’t think we really have a choice. We starve to death, or land on this planet and thrive.”

            “Guys… its not that bad,” said Abby. She was sitting by Gibbs and was only NCIS team member to finish her plate of food. “You can do this in the most subtle ways possible… most of you already do.”

            “What do you mean Abs?” DiNozzo asked her, leaning forward. He really had not meant to explode like that. “Maybe we should move to the cargo bay,” he said trying to avoid his own awkward squirming. They did. It was much roomier. He was able to step back, embarrassed by his outburst.

            “Well… in these types of relationships there are two dynamic roles. Dominant or Submissive. There is a whole range of titles for both sides of the fence, those depend on temperament and personality, that’s more of a 201 kinda thing…” Abby was rambling.

“Abby,” Gibbs reminded her gently.

 “Sorry,” she apologized and attempted to gather the rest of her thoughts into more simple terms. “Typically the Dominant is in charge and gives the submissive their collar. The collar means a lot of things. Protection, commitment, obedience from the submissive, love… most of us already wear hypothetical collars to our bosses.”

            “Gibbs is my boss, Abby,” Ziva defended. “But I don’t have sex with him.”

            “It’s not ALWAYS about sex,” Abby explained. Then she scratched her brow and sighed. “This is the hardest part to understand. Gibbs, you don’t mind me using you for my explanation do you?”

            “Make it good Abs,” Gibbs instructed her, but he squeezed her hand reassuringly.

            “Gibbs would be more like a Daddy Dominant to me,” Abby looked at him before looking at the people who were listening to her. “We would have rules, I follow them. He takes care of me, spoils me, nurtures me, guides me, and if things were to go wrong he would discipline me.”

            Gibbs nodded. Other then the disciplining—which he had threatened to do in the past—sounded very much like how their relationship already functioned.

            “We don’t have to have sex to make it an effective power exchange relationship,” Abby kept explaining. “Though some relationships do involve them. Jack, may I?” She looked up at Jack, who nodded.

            “Like Jack and Ianto,” Abby said, pointing at the two Torchwood agents. “Ianto is clearly submissive to Jack, you can tell by the way he serves Jack first, follows his orders without hesitation, and his body language. I’ve only talked to them for a few minutes, but I am assuming that Ianto also submits to Jack in their private lives as well. For them, that power exchange helps with the sexual gratification. Am I right?”

            Ianto stiffened, but Jack reached down to grab his hand. If they were going to do this, he needed to start being comfortable with being open. Nothing on Masoch De Sade was much of a secret. “It’s okay,” he whispered into Ianto’s ear, before turning back to Abby. “That sounds about right.”

            “They are not the only ones willing to attempt that type of relationship,” said Abby. She offered Ianto a warm smile, the corner of his mouth twitched slightly. “For tonight’s demonstration, I give you Agent Coulson.”

            The room stopped breathing. Or at least it felt like it. All eyes were focused on the balding man in his black suit. He reached up and loosened his tie and cleared his throat. “I’ve had some experiences in my day,” he began, pulling his tie off and holding it out beside him. Clint Barton stepped forward to take the silver tie into his hands, his eyes cast downward.

            “It should be no secret to anyone that Clint, Natasha, and I have had previous relations,” Coulson kept saying as he stripped off his jacket and handed it to Clint. Agent Barton folded it neatly and set it on a nearby crate. The S.H.I.E.L.D handler began to undo the wrist buttons on his sleeves. “Both professionally and of a personal nature.” No one really looked surprised, and after meeting Captain Jack Harkness a threesome seemed normal compared to his sexual escapades.

            “This is not our first rodeo in the area of D/s either,” Coulson was rolling up his sleeves now. “A few years ago, a secret op took us into the heart of a kink club. Barton…” He reached back and pulled the young man forward. “…posed as my submissive.”

            Barton stood facing Coulson, his hands folded neatly behind his back. Coulson began to unbutton the younger mans shirt…slowly, methodically.

            “We found out later,” It was Natasha who was speaking now, circling the two men. “It was not an act for Barton. He loved submission.” Natasha stopped so that Barton was between them, her chest pressed up against the archer. Phil slipped off Clint’s shirt, and Natasha took it in her hands.

            “And we loved topping him just as much,” Coulson said. He reached up and patted Clint’s face. It was a lovingly gesture, but his hand held so much power in it. The room stood in awe.

            “First things first,” Coulson pulled away and walked around Clint to face the room. “Safety. While Clint, Tasha, and I have a pre-established relationship, most of you do not. It’s important to negotiate what will and will not work in your relationships.”

            Tasha moved forward, following Phil’s cue. “Pup. You wear our collar. You know we have certain expectations, and we need to know that you consent to this fully.” Clint nodded his head in agreement and Tasha turned to the crowd of people.  “We also have an open door policy and at anytime things get too rough he can use his safe word or walk out.”

            Clint nodded his head. “But that usually isn’t the case, since we have negoatiated so well.”

            “Stop.” Coulson said, as if he was running a film. “Does anyone know what a safeword is?”

            Abby’s hand short straight up.

            “Anyone but Abby,” Coulson said with a half smile.

            “It’s a word that you say to let your partner know that something is wrong,” Gibbs said, surprising them all. “Generally, most people use red.”

            “Right,” Coulson nodded. “Red means stop, yellow means slow down, and green means safe to go. You can also use personal safe words, as long as both parties know them and know their meaning before play or the relationships starts.”

            “Tell them what your safe word is, pup,” Tasha instructed, she had stepped back from Clint and was tying her hair up in a ponytail.

            “Arrow.”

            “Good boy,” Phil reached up to put a hand on Clint’s shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly, before he pushed Barton to his knees. Natasha sat down on a cargo crate in front of him.

            The room was quiet. A few people shifted uncomfortably. Abby leaned forward with enthusiasm.   Kaylee buried her face in Mal’s knee. Jack was grinning, that sly grin when he was aroused by something. He kept his arm around Ianto, who looked like shaking little boy. Others were amused at the scene that was taking place in front of them, others looked confused, and a few more looked like they would be sick.

            Phil bent down and whispered something to Clint. There was no hesitation in Clint’s body as he moved to obey. Phil’s whisper had obviously been an order and Clint had laid his head down on Natasha’s boot.

            “There are several things we could show you,” Phil continued his lecture. “We have a physical relationship, some of you will and some of you wont. Right now, it’s important to understand the mindsets and less about the physicality.”

            Natasha was stroking Clint’s head as he kissed her boots. “Phil and I have take control of Clint’s life, and he willingly gives us that control. This involves control of all the inner beings; physical being, the mental, the emotional, the sexual, the spiritual. We are very vigilant of all of these things.”

            As Natasha was talking, Phil had been roaming the cargo bay. As she stopped he began to push another cargo crate over to where Tasha was petting the young archer. The crates were close to the same height and Phil used it as support to sit on.

            “We want to give you a simple demonstration,” Phil continued. “One that is not too disturbing, but it will allow you to see as many of those states as possible. Everyone knows what a spanking is?”

            A few people nodded, but mostly remained fixed and stiff. Tough crowd.

            Tasha was helping Clint to his feet as Phil continued. “In our relationship we use spanking for a lot of things. Clint has been with us enough to know what type of spanking is which. Hmm?” Kaylee hadded raised her hand, biting her lip.

            “How can there be more then one type of whipping Mr. Coulson?” She was squeezing the legs of her overall with white knuckles.

            “That is an excellent question,” Phil smiled at her. There were no stupid questions. Especially in an area that was so strange and new to all of them. “Clint, do you want to answer.”

            Clint, who had been touching foreheads with his red haired companion, looked up. His cheeks flushed the same color of Natasha’s hair, and he made a sound in his throat that only Phil and Tasha heard. “We have the normal spankings, or what everyone considers normal, I suppose.”

            “And what do we call those, Clint?” Phil prodded, grinning at the slight humiliation that this would cause his submissive.

            Clint mumbled something. Natasha was the only one that heard it and she smiled approvingly. “Speak up, pup, I don’t think your Master heard you.” Still grinning, she reached down and began to undo the button of his pants.

“We call those naughty spankings,” Clint repeated. Phil nodded approvingly.

“Right. We also have play spankings and erotic spankings,” Phil went on, giving his boy a chance to recover his breath. It was short lived, Natasha had undone his belt buckle now and with one swift movement pulled his slacks down to the floor. Clint reached forward to touch Natasha, and she indulged him in a moment of reassurance, speaking words in Russian. Clint had never failed to disappoint as an exhibitionist, he thrived at any kink or leather club the Phil and Tasha presented him at. This was not a club, though. These people were strangers. There was no telling how they would react, and no matter how much Clint had consented, the thought obviously was still haunting him.

“Do you need your safeword, pup?” Phil heard her whisper. When Clint shook his head, Phil proceeded.

“It must be hard for you to decipher the difference between those types of spanking, right?”

Clint shook his head again. “No Sir,” he spoke loud enough for people to hear this time. “My Master clearly communicates the type of spanking he intends to deliver and we have certain things that separate them.”

“Like what?” Phil prodded, he held out his hand for Clint to come to him. Tasha gave him a final kiss as she facilitated the transfer of Clint’s hand to Phils.

“Like the way we speak to one another, the atmosphere, the rituals. Like this… I know this is going to be for play.” Clint would not meet eyes with anyone as Phil maneuver the archer to the right side of himself.  Phil was about to ask him to elaborate as to why this would be for play, but Clint anticipated the question. “Because you have not scolded me, and I haven’t done anything that warrants punishment.”

Phil chucked at the obvious relief in his tone. “That’s right, boy. You have been a good pup. Over my lap.” With that, Phil helped Clint over his knees, and his head into Tasha’s lap. They took a few seconds to organize themselves so they were all comfortable. This was a familiar position for both Phil and Clint, with Natasha offering support, the arrangement was quick and Phil was reading to begin. “What is your safe word little boy?”

“Arrow.” Clint repeated for the second time that day. Phil nodded in approval before resting a large palm on Clint’s backside, which was presented at the perfect angle for Phil’s hand to deliver maximum sting. He rubbed circles at first, something he would have never done if he intended to teach Clint a lesson. Luickly for Barton, the lesson he intended to teach was meant for the people watching. He began spanking. The smacks were steady, but not hard. They landed crisply on Clint’s briefs with a resounding echo in the cargo bay. Phil knew that Clint would barely feel these swats, Phil was aware that Clint could take ten times that amount of pain. 

“Anytime you intend to do something physical for the intention of play, it is important to give warm up,” Phil lectured as he continued spanking briskly and in a pattern that he seemed to know only in his head. “It helps prepare the area to take more later on in the session, and it helps the bottom get into a mindset to process the pain they are enduring.”

“What if you ain’t into pain?” Jayne asked. His face was scrunched up in a tormented manner.

“Some people aren’t, and that’s okay. Not everyone has to play like this,” Phil explained, pausing the spanking to rub Clint’s backside as he talked. “Some people like pain so much they cannot have physical punishments. Some people have D/s with very little physical interaction at all. That is why negotiation is so important.”

“Clint likes pain when he is not being punished,” Natasha explained, she was running her long, manicured fingers threw Clint’s brown hair.

Phil resumed spanking; this time the flat of his hand was connecting very sharply with Clint’s bottom. Clint began to react to the sting that was growing. He turned his head into Tasha’s stomach, so that his scrunched up face was hidden. His body relaxed between each of the swats and then tensed again when Phil’s had cracked down.  As the spanking intensified so did the sounds that Clint made. Tiny whimpers and gasps as his toes kicked slightly off the ground.

The cargo bay was quiet save the sounds of the spanking. The audience still stood in a mix of emotions, but some of their facial expressions had softened. Jack leaned over to whisper something in Ianto’s ear, the suited man thought for a second before nodding in response. Jack grinned and his hand snaked around to rest on Ianto’s ass. Torchwood seemed to be handling everything quite well, Tosh and Gwen were both honestly curious, and Owen had his head to be cocked to the side. It was if he was saying to himself, “Why did I never do this before?” 

NCIS seemed to be handling things fine also. Jethro would ask Abby questions every few seconds, and she would answer as knowingly as possible. The rest of his team was so mesmerized by the spanking that none of the spoke or even moved. They did not turn away though, Palmer was rubbing his hands together nervously in his lap.

It was the crew of Firefly that was unable to stomach it the most. Jayne still looked as if he was going to vomit at any seconds. Zoe looked angry, her brow wrinkled in a slight confusion—or judgement—one could not be sure. Every once in a while Wash would snicker and Zoe would glare at him. Kaylee was shivering like a teeny tiny maraca, Mal put his hand on her shoulder. Simon had not looked up since Phil began, he kept his head down and would glance from side to side every few seconds. River looked happier then anyone had ever seen her; she would hop and clap each time Clint made a sound. Mal was about to say something to her, but then realized how much like River that actually was, and decided to let the girl be herself, even if it was slightly odd.

“Should we change it up, a little?” Phil asked as he paused the spanking once more. Clint muttered a reply, and Phil chuckled. The balding man leaned over Clint’s body, keeping one arm wrapped around Clint’s waist. He began to untie his shoelaces. “Sometimes there are different things to be used. Back on Earth we had canes, floggers, whips, but all those are a little advanced for you all. My shoe, the treated leather sole of my shoe will suffice.”

Phil gripped the shoe tightly as he re-positioned himself and Barton. “Brace yourself, boy,” Phil instructed before he began he raised the shoe high above his head and brought down with a loud CRACK. Many of the onlookers cringed as Clint cried out of the first time.

Phil smirked and continued swatting with extreme power. Clint was writhing on his lap, kicking his feet, and whimpering as Phil spanked him. Natasha had put her fingers tigtly into Barton’s hair to hold him still. She was whispering to him softly in Russian.

“What is she saying?” Abby asked Gibbs, but loud enough so Phil could hear she was curious.

“Is everyone okay with a little bit more explicit language?” Phil paused his spanking long enough to ask. Some people shrugged, others did not say anything, but since no one verbally objected, Phil translated Natasha’s words. “She is telling him not to come.”

Abby squeaked and she grabbed Gibbs hand. “That’s kind of hot,” she muttered. Gibbs raised an eyebrow at her before taking her hand and placing it back on her own lap.

            This time Ianto leaned back to whisper something to Jack. Jack looked at him in surprise before he wrapped his arms around Ianto’s neck and pulled him close.

“Clint can get off on pain,” Phil explained as he resumed spanking with his dress shoe. “He trusts us to push him to the edge of as much pain as he can handle, but not over. That kind of situation pumps adrenaline into the bloodstream, and like an adrenaline junkie the endorphins can—and in this case—do equal arousal.”

Clint moaned and continued squirming. His handler was not letting up, and the parts of Clint’s skin that were not covered by his briefs were turning cherry red.  “None of that boy,” Phil stopped long enough to move Clint around on his lap. Clint’s squirming had turned into a desperate act to relieve the stiffness in his cock.

Phil knew that it was time to wrap this up. Clint was going to take this to level that these people were probably not ready for. Just as Phil was about to let Clint up, it was Mal that spoke up. “Don’t quit on our account,” he had to force himself to speak up. “If this is gonna be part of our lives.” He cleared his throat. “We gotta get used to it. We can’t go onto this planet gawking like idiots.”

Zoe shifted her weight, but nodded in agreement. Jethro contemplated for a moment, sexual experiences were meant to be private. He had a suspicion that they would not be spared modesty on the planet that was named after Marquis De Sade. “The best way to prepare my agents is to submerge them in what they need to know,” said Gibbs, crossing his arms over his chest.

Jack was taking consultation from Torchwood. As usual,  and as expected, they had no problems with this demonstration reaching a sexual peak. Sex was private, but not private enough to bother them if it needed to be discussed. “I like the show,” Jack muttered with a grin, his arm was still around Ianto’s neck. He pulled him close and kissed the top of his head again. It would be hardest on him to watch, knowing his conservative nature.

“I won’t be to vulgar,” announced Phil as he dropped the shoe on the ground. “I am going to give the boy a bit of humiliating pleasure.”

Natasha bent forward and whispered again in Russian. It took Clint a second to respond, but he eventually shook his head no.

“Natasha just reminded him that he could use his safe word,” Phil narrated as his hands were looping into the waistband of Clint’s briefs. With a swift movement he pulled them down to join Clint’s pants on the ground. There was a collective gasp at the redness of Clint’s ass, with a few dark purple splotches where the edge of the shoe had left marks.

“Tell me what you want, boy,” Phil ordered as he rested his hand on the ass that he had so recently marked. His large fingers traced circles over the bruises while he awaited an answer, then his middle finger dipped between the crack of the rosy buns. It paused on Clint’s asshole, putting a tiny bit of pressure to prod an answer.

“You sir,” Clint breathed out into Tasha’s lap.

“Not going to happen,” Phil replied quickly. “Something a bit more realistic, maybe?”

Clint mewled pitifully, trying to rub his cock on Phil’s leg again. “Your fingers Sir… I need to come.”

Phil pulled his hand away and patted the upturned rump rewardingly. “I think I can manage that.” He extended his hand to Natasha. “Tasha, if you will.” The lovely Russian took the two longest fingers of her Hander into her mouth, as she turned Clint’s face up to watch her suck on them seductively. Clint moaned loudly as his hands snaked up Tasha’s body towards her breasts. She smacked his hand away as Phil’s fingers slipped from her mouth with a delightful pop.

“No touching,” she reminded firmly, taking his hand and holding it at the small of his back so that Phil could finish.

Coulson had already placed his hand back on Clint’s backside, with his fingers coated in spit they would enter Clint’s tight anus with much more ease. Of course, had Phil wanted to be mean he could have made this hurt for Clint, but since Clint had been good Phil was going to be kind.

“Clint, Tasha, and I are all sexually active and fluid bonded,” Phil continued to lecture as his index finger rubbed in a circle on Clint’s most private hole. The archer’s feet lifted off the floor in anticipation. “And you should only do this with negotiation before hand.” Phil pushed his finger in a knuckle deep. A gasp escaped Clint’s mouth, but he swallowed any other sound.

Phil did not say anymore. He just worked his finger back and forth—in and out—until Clint’s asshole took the whole finger. Of course, Clint was unable to be still or silent while Phil finger fucked him. He had muffled his sounds by burying his face in Natasha’s pants leg, but squeaks and moans could still be heard if Phil thrusted particularly hard.

When Agent Coulson was certain that he had stretched Clint enough, he added his middle finger. Clint was unable to keep his sounds hidden any longer. As soon as Phil got both of his fingers in, he began to fuck him without mercy, putting the entire strength of his arm into the thrusting. This lasted for a few minutes before Clint’s sounds turned into frantic pleas.

“Please Sir,” Clint called out, rocking his hips violently. “Please.”

“What do you need boy?” Phil stopped fucking with his fingers still deep in Clint’s bottom.

“I need to come. Please may I come?” Clint finally screamed.

Phil adjusted his hand at an angle that he seemed to know well, and with one last thrust he stopped and massaged inside of Clint. “You may.”

Something inside of Clint let go. He moaned as he arched his back as a jet of hot cum squirted onto Coulson’s pants. Tasha was smiling, rubbing Clint’s back proudly.

When Clint was done, and seemed to be laying limp over Coulson and Tasha’s lap, Phil withdrew his fingers. Clint honored them with one last moan, before he fell into a puddle at Phil’s feet. Natasha had produced a rag from her pocket, which she handed to Phil. He proceeded to clean off his hands and the spot on his pants that Clint had made.

“Give us a minute please,” Phil told all of them, as he kneeled to whisper into Clint’s ears. “You okay, pup?” Clint nodded, but he seemed disconnected. Phil helped him up to his feet where Tasha steadied his shaking body so that he did not fall. Phil redressed him piece by piece. First his underwear, which he pulled up methodically and slowly, as a father would to a small child he took Clint’s now flaccid cock and tucked it comfortably. Then came his pants which Phil took his time to zip and button. When Phil was done, he pulled the younger man to his chest and kissed the top of his head. “I’m going to finish the lesson now, why don’t you kneel at Tasha’s feet. I’ll be here if you need me.”

“Yes Sir,” Clint nodded into Phil’s chest, taking a deep breath and gathering the smell of his handler. He stepped back and went over to Tasha, who welcomed him into her care.

“This is called after care,” Phil explained, he had already started to roll his sleeves back down. “We already mentioned that this can be extremely emotional, and this is the moment we take the time to make sure that our submissive is satisfied and taken care off.”

            Jimmy Palmer cleared his throat and raised his hand. He had been silent and nervous until this point. “I have a question.”

            “Of course.”

            “What if you can’t do that,” Jimmy murmured. “I mean. I’m sure I could, but I don’t have anyone. This could be… emotionally dangerous.”

            Abby tugged on Gibb’s pants legs. Gibbs patted her head, and stood up. He walked over to Jimmy, knelt down, and took his chin. “Palmer,” Gibbs said in a deadly serious tone. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. You’re mine, and I’m not going to let just anyone have you.”

            Jimmy looked up at him as if his eyes were about to swim with tears. “Thank you Sir.”

            “All of you are mine,” Gibbs turned to look at his team. “Except Ziva, she can fend for herself.”

            “Boss?” Tony raised his hand hesitantly. “What about me? I’m sure I could be a dominant like Ziva.”

            There was a collective chuckle around the room, and even Gibbs cracked a smile. “Tony,” he said, putting his arm around the younger mans neck affectingly. “If you prove to me and the rest of this room that you can be a dominant, I’ll let you. Right now… stop arguing.”

            Phil cleared his throat. “Jimmy brings up a good point though,” he said. Clint was still kneeling in silence in front of Natasha. “Relationships like this involve a lot of potential for emotional turmoil.”

            “We cannot stress how extremely important communication and respect is,” Tasha spoke up as she pulled Clint’s head into her lap. “Also, Gibbs makes a good point. I think that all of the submissive people in this room should belong to someone. It was a smart idea for him to take control of his team.”

            “Well not all of us have a team of submissives,” Mal said exchanging looks with Zoe. Jayne looked like he would fight Mal if he tried to lay claim to him.

            “No, but it is important to protect those that do identify that way,” Phil said quickly. “Clint is a strong man in our workplace and life, but I have found that when he submits he as at his most vulnerable and real state. Natasha and I love him, so we tread carefully on that, but there is no guarantee that leaving a submissive to roam free on this strange planet is the best option.”

            Kaylee raised her hand, much like Jimmy and Tony, except she bit her lip before being called on. “I want to do what Abby said,” she looked over at Abby. “That Daddy thing. Do you and Mr. Barton do that?”

            “She is such a little,” Abby muttered. Gibbs raised an eyebrow at her for speaking before Phil could answer the question.

            “We already said that there are many spectrums of D/s relationships,” Phil explained. “Being a Daddy and a little girl or little boy is just one of the few. It’s much more innocent, less obedience, but more protection and nurturing and discipline. My relationship with Clint can sometimes be very Father/son like. I call him boy, often. I am responsible for his well being and I am very strict with him, but he has yet to refer to me as Daddy.”

            Jayne snorted. “Cause the girl with a teddy bear on her jumpsuit ain’t cut out for that type of relationship.”

            “Hey!” Kaylee cried out, crossing her arms and pouting. “I might be good at it!” He had obviously been joking, but Kaylee was determined.

            Abby laughed out loud. “Her trying to say that she isn’t a little girl is like Tony trying to say that he isn’t a submissive.”

            “Hey!” It was Tony’s turn to object.

            Clint stifled a chuckle, it was the first noise he had made from his kneeling position.

            “Do you have something to say, pup?” Natasha leaned forward to ask. “You are part of this demo too.”

            “It’s just that,” Clint bowed his head before speaking. “I spent so much time trying to deny that this was part of who I am. People are spending so much time trying to put labels on things that will come natural. Gibbs did the right thing, he took charge, things will fall into place after that as long as everyone consents.”

            Natasha brought his lips to hers and kissed them. “Words of wisdom.”

            “Jack,” Phil turned to the handsome man in suspenders. “No one from your team has said anything.”

            “It’s hard for me to claim territory over my team,” he admitted honestly. “Ianto is mine, no one will argue that, but the rest of them. They belong to themselves. Gwen crushes my ball on a daily basis, I’m sure she’ll have no problem fitting right in with the more sadistic Dominants. But I generally leave Owen and Tosh to their own choices.”

            “Tosh’s choices haven’t been that bright,” Ianto reminded them all. It was not spiteful, it was just truthful. She had, after all, slept with an alien and then fell in love with a man from the 1950’s.  Tosh did not argue.

“I’m not sure who I am really,” Owen added. “I mean, where I identify, my sexual natural is legendary. All the women wanted it… did not matter if I was top, bottom, middle…”

            “Owen, your point…” Gwen muttered, moving him along.

            “Part of me thinks that guys on the floor is a damn fool,” Owen admitted. “Part of me thinks I could do what Agent Barton does, and then another part of me wants to make Tosh do that for me.”

            “What?” Tosh squeaked.

            “Tosh, you’re submissive, right?” Owen tried to prod out of her.

            “I dunno, I hadn’t decided yet,” Tosh muttered, looking away. “Probably. I mean, Ianto is right, I don’t make the best choices and I follow instead of lead.”

            “Well, how about this,” Owen offered up a suggestion. “Since we are trying this for funsies…”

            “It’s not for fun, Owen,” Ianto interrupted, but Jack silenced him by holding up a hand.

            Owen rolled his eyes and decided to rephrase his sentence. “Since we have to do this, I agree to belong to Jack or Gwen as protection, we all know that I’m not so smart when it comes to who I sleep with, that could end up very badly on a planet where there are blood rules.” Jack was glad that Owen was thinking level headed.    “And I’m okay with Tosh being under Jack’s protection too, but I want to play with her. Like Phil just played with Clint, except maybe not the anal thing I’m not sure Tosh is into that.”

            Gwen cleared her throat again, attempting to get him back on track, but it was Tosh that spoke. “Maybe if things work out, we can enter a more permanent relationship?” Tosh blushed as she spoke. Owen considered it and nodded. He won in both situations.

            “That’s fair,” Jack nooded. That pairing was a long time coming in Torchwood. Why did it take being transported to a kinky planet for it to work? Jack looked at Ianto for reassurance, and the suited man agreed with a dip of his chin.

            “It’s perfectly acceptable to be what is called a switch,” Phil gave more information. “Tasha is. She submits only to me, but is a Dominant to everyone else.”

            “Me too!” Tony raised his hand again.

            Abby laughed at him again, and Gibbs silenced them both with a look.

            “No, that would be me,” Wash finally said. “I’ll submit to my wife, but not to Mal or anyone else.” Zoe grinned and bent down to kiss him.

“I want Kaylee,” Jayne finally said.

            “What?!” Simon yelled in shock.

            “You honestly think you can be her Dominant?” Jayne demanded crossing his arms over his chest and towering over Simon.

            “Can it Jayne,” Mal ordered. “I’ll take Kaylee for now.”

            “Us too,” Zoe spoke up, looking at Wash. “I’m interested in exploring this little girl thing.” Kaylee smiled at her.

            “Simon?” Mal gave him a look. “Are you willing to except my offer of protection?”

            “What about River?” Simon looked at his littler sister. She hadn’t said much, he wasn’t quite sure that she understood.

            “It extends to her, too,” Mal explained. “Mostly in name, I won’t dominate someone that ain’t got the mind to consent to it.” Simon looked at River, and accepted with a nod.

            “What about Inara?” Kaylee asked turning to the companion, and her dearest friend.

            “I’m quite capable of taking care of myself, mei mei,” Inara smiled at Kaylee and touched her face. “In my line of work, this type of play is not unheard off.”

            “Ya sure?” Mal sounded concerned. No matter how much he wanted to protect Inara, he had made a promise that he would mind his business concerning Inara.

            “I appricate your concern Captain, but if I chose to submit to someone on this planet, it will be my choice,” Inara announced, her hand was on Kaylee’s head. “Mal, Zoe. You best take care of Kaylee.”

            “Wouldn’t dream of letting anything happening to her,” Zoe answered with a proud nod of her head.

            “When you are ready Kaylee,” Inara whispered to Kaylee stroking her soft cheek. “You can come see me and we’ll play, alright?”

            Kaylee grinned before she wrapped her arms around Inara in a gigantic hug. Inara held her tight, meeting eyes with Mal. “Its gonna be okay, mei mei,” Inara reached up to stroke Kaylee’s hair. “Mal and Zoe will take good care of you. Everyone is in good hands. Everyone will be just fine.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) So. I spit this one out. Edited it through a few times, but I'm sure there are still mistakes. Sorry. I'm still without a beta.  
> 2) Personal post, be warned. I'm going through a really rough spot in my life. I just moved to a new school to start my grad school, and I hate it. I miss my family and friends. This story is kinda the only thing that I like doing at the moment. So I really like getting your feedback and responding. So keep it up.  
> 3) The Jack/Ianto scene developed much more quickly that I thought, I just felt that they fell into these roles. Be prepared. Smut below.  
> 4) In my world Jack has no problem saying "I love you." It is probably the most OOC part of this story so far.  
> 5) I'm introducing a original character; Cornelia Applegate. Since Jack has some past history on this planet, it makes sense that he would have some connections. ^_^  
> 6) Also... the breeding thing that I mention is kinda weird. But it's whatever. We're combing storylines that are already pretty odd.  
> 7) My usual warning.BDSM/Kink/AgePlay... all types of alternative sex lifestyles are based on hours and hours of communication and consent. Do not try this at home just for funsies. Do you research, talk to your partner. Sure it’s fun to read about and fap too, but some of the stuff is not only physically dangerous, but can emotionally manipulate a person to an unhealthy level.  
> 8) I also, I have failed to mention the unstated. I don't own these character or have intention to make profit. All characters belong to their respect owner/trademarks/whatever. ^_^  
> 9) I'm working on developing the Firefly characters. They're hard because this would be a hard situation for them. So while I try to not force things into this story, some things just have to be forced. Feel free to offer advice in this area.  
> 10) This is what I do to keep myself from hating myself for writing shameless smut.http://orteil.dashnet.org/cookieclicker/. Go be addicted.  
> 11) If you have tumblr. I post a lot of Torchwood/fandom stuff. My tumblr is the same name as this sites handle. I shouldn't be that hard to find. ;)  
> 12) I also have gotten request for certain relationships to develop, and have plot bunnies hopping around. I'm not afraid to listen to my readers.  
> 13) I have a spin off ready, but I'm going to wait till relationships develop more before posting it. Basic plots involves Kaylee/Abby/Ianto getting into trouble, Mal and Simon establishing boundaries, Jimmy being sick and Gibbs taking care of him. Fun stuff.

                  “Talk to me, Ianto,” Jack commanded. He had stowed away in one of the bunks, brining Ianto with him. They had not had time to process the recent information together. “I said you were mine, are you okay with that?”

                  Ianto seemed to be puzzled by the statement. Like there was no other option for him. “Of course I am,” Ianto moved to sit beside him on the small bed. “I would not have it any other way.”

                  “I don’t think you understand what you are signing up for,” Jack took his hands.

                  “I don’t think any of us do,” Ianto muttered honestly. He let Jack lift his knuckles to his lips. “But I trust you.”

                  “I don’t just want your submission Ianto,” Jack explained. “I want to hurt you.”

                  Ianto swallowed and tensed up. “As long as its not emotional hurt,” Ianto whispered. “I don’t think I could handle heart break.”

                  “Ianto,” Jack let go of the Welsh man’s hands and cupped his face, bringing their noses together. “I never want to hurt you like that.”

                  Jack kissed him, and Ianto kissed him back. Jack had kissed a lot of people in his several lifetimes, kissing was a small thing compared to some of his other sexual adventures, but he never got tired of kissing Ianto.

                  “Jack,” Ianto said, pulling away slightly. Their lips were still almost touching.

                  “Mmm,” Jack was listening, but his hand was traveling down to start undoing Ianto’s pants.

                  “I want to try something else,” Ianto told him, he slid the suspenders off Jack’s shoulders. “Something they were talking about earlier.”

                  “Oh?” Jack undid the zipper as he leaned his chin forward to bite on Ianto’s lip.

                  “Jack, this is important,” Ianto whispered, but his breath caught in his throat as Jack dove his hand down his pants.

                  “I’m sure it is,” Jack pushed him back onto the bunk. “Keep talking.” His hand was working to free Ianto’s cock from his shorts.

                  “It’s nothing… just…” Ianto could barely talk. “Just keep going… Daddy.”

                  Jack stopped in the middle of his battle with Ianto’s pants. Pulling back, he looked at Ianto suspiciously. “That’s a new one.”

                  “Sorry,” Ianto apologize instantly, assuming he had done something wrong.

                  “No… no…” Jack cupped Ianto’s face to reassure him. “I just did’t know you wanted that.”

                  “You don’t want too?” Ianto asked nervously, readjusting on the bed.

                  “Did I say that?” Jack asked him, crossing his arms.

                  “No.”

                  “Yeah, stop putting words in my mouth,” Jack told him. He leaned back on the pillows. “It’s not so much of a jump, Ianto.”

                  Ianto seemed crestfallen that the sexual advance had ended, but smiled when Jack patted the small space beside him. Ianto curled up next to his lover, resting his head on his chest.

                  “I’ve always been more of a Daddy to you, to Tosh, to Owen…” Jack was speaking his mind idly as he petted Ianto lovingly. “I never wanted anything to happen to you, it’s my job to take care of you. I think it will be harder for you to make the switch.”

                  “I don’t understand,” Ianto looked up at him in confusion. Jack smiled at him before pressing Ianto back down on his chest. Jack wrapped his arms around the Welsh man tightly, and kissed the top of Ianto’s head. Jack noted the difference, he was used to Ianto using gel to style his hair neatly. Without the presence of hair gel it was untidy and unkempt and it smelled natural. Jack liked the smell of Ianto without hair products.

                  “You’re a good boy,” Jack finally told him after he had taken in the comforting smell. “I don’t need to give you rules and structure or discipline you because you make it your goal to not displease me.”

                  “I don’t think that matters,” Ianto muttered into Jack’s shirt. “You already do all those things, and I already obey them.” There was a moment of silence that passed between them. “Remember that time I ordered coleslaw with the pizza for weeks?”

                  Jack looked down at him puzzled. “Yeah, and you were the only one that ate it.”

                  “I did that because we had a conversation about eating vegetables,” Ianto admitted. He had always thought that Jack would pick up on it, but they had never discussed it. “That’s what I see as this Daddy/boy relationship. You tell me to eat my veggies, or go to bed, or whatever it is… just because I make the choice to do it the first time, doesn’t make it less of that type of relationship.”

                  Jack recalled the conversations now that Ianto brought it up. It caused him to remember the other similar scenarios that he and Ianto had over the years. The moments when Jack had touched him gently to reassure him that everything was okay. The times that he had sent his coffee boy home because he was organizing torchwood files till 3 am in the morning. Ianto never argued with him, and Jack had never considered the possibility that something more could exist.

                  “You make a fair point,” acknowledge Jack, his arms still holding onto Ianto tightly.

                  “You said something untrue,” Ianto pointed out. He sat up and looked at Jack seriously.

Jack blinked at him and confusion. “And what was that?”

“I don’t always do what you say,” a sly smile appeared on his face. “There was that one time I told Gwen about the holding facility, after you told me not too.”

Jack laughed before pulling Ianto back to him. “That was a long time ago,” Jack spoke into Ianto’s hair again. “And you did the right thing.”

“But you weren’t happy about it,” said Ianto. “You could have punished me.”

“The thought had crossed my mind,” Jack was smirking. He reached down and took Ianto’s hand in his, giving it a squeeze. “Ianto, if you want me to be your Daddy, I will do it. I will be anything you want me to be, because I love you. If you want me to tell you to eat your vegetables so you grow up strong and healthy, then I will do that.”

“What if I decide that I don’t want to eat them?” Ianto asked, challenging.

“Then I will sit at the table with you until you eat them.” Jack replied without missing a beat.

“Temper tantrum and all?” Ianto was barely audible.

“If you need to have a temper tantrum,” Jack said, taking a moment to imagine Ianto Jones throwing a temper tantrum “Then I will deal with it.”

“How?”

Jack though about it. He could be a sadist. That much he had already told Ianto, but punishing Ianto as a Daddy wasn’t about pain. It was about discipline and correction.

“I would have to spank you,” Jack finally admitted. He pulled Ianto back and looked him in the eye firmly. “You don’t want a spanking do you baby boy?”

Ianto twitched. He could not meet Jack’s eye contact for a full five seconds. “No Daddy.”

“Then you’ll keep being my good boy?” Asked Jack still keeping Ianto at arms length. When Ianto did not look at him, Jack took his chin in his hands to make Ianto meet his gaze. “I didn’t hear an answer.”

“Yes…Daddy.”

Jack felt a strange throb in his cock. Maybe he could play these games with Ianto. In fact, he noticed that had a bulge in Ianto’s pants also. Jack reached forward and patted Ianto’s raging hard on. “You didn’t ask Daddy permission for that, either.”

Ianto looked down at the large hand that was resting on his pants. His face flushed crimson with embarrassment as he squirmed. Jack took that opportunity to resume getting his hand into Ianto’s pants. “Maybe I should spank you for having this naughty hard on.”

Ianto made desperate noise as Jack’s hand closed on the base of his cock. He sucked in breath and leaned into Jack, pressing his forehead onto Jack’s warm check.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” Jack whispered into his nearby ear. “My hand turning your ass red as you laid over my lap.” He started to work Ianto’s pants off his hips expertly. “I would scold you for being so naughty. Only dirty little boys get hard cocks without Daddy’s permission.”

“Jack!” Ianto called suddenly. “Stop!”

Jack blinked at him in mock confusion. “Stop? Stop which part? You don’t like when I talk dirty to you?”

Ianto was sucking in breath and working hard to help Jack disrobe him. “I don’t mean stop everything, I mean stop teasing!”

Jack laughed out loud as Ianto’s pants fell to the floor. “Who is the Daddy here?” Jack reminded him, but instead of pushing him down onto his lap for that intended spanking, he maneuvered Ianto onto his stomach.

“You are,” Ianto muttered miserably into the pillow. Jack was ridding himself of his own pants and they ended up beside Ianto’s on the floor.

“That’s right,” Jack told him, standing above him with his hands on his hips. His cock twitched onto his belly as he looked at Ianto laid out before him. “And your Daddy is about to fuck your tight little hole till I come. Kneel up, Ianto.”

Ianto moaned at the thought but moved into position, sticking his ass out into the air. Jack was busying himself by slicking up his cock with spit. “And if you’re good,” Jack told him as he climbed onto the bed. “I will even make sure you enjoy yourself too.”

“Thank you,” Ianto said breathlessly. He felt Jack press the tip of his cock onto his quivering asshole. Sometimes, Jack would take the time to prepare him. Other times, neither one of them could wait long enough. This was the latter, and Jack began to push his cock in with very little ceremony. Ianto cried out instinctively, no matter how many times Jack had taken him, there was always a moment of pain. His Captain was kind though, and he took his time. Pumping in and out of him with a slow rhythm, so that Ianto was stretched wide before Jack really fucked him.

Ianto could never prepare for that moment when Jack pulled all the way out, and then slammed deep inside of him using all the strength of his hips. Ianto always saw stars, and he had to control himself from coming on the spot. It was a mix of pleasure and pain that drove him mad.

Ianto was lost for a few moments as Jack pounded him. Ianto was moaning, Jack was grunting, and they were both dripping beads of sweat from their brows. “Roll over,” Jack barked loudly. He pulled out long enough to help Ianto move onto his back. When Ianto was into position, Jack pushed his legs up into the air so he could re-enter Ianto with a particularly hard thrust.

Ianto closed his eyes and threw his head back in ecstasy.

“No!” Jack grunted at him. “Touch yourself and look at me. Don’t loose eye contact, or I won’t let you come.”

The sound of flesh slapping flesh resumed, and Ianto’s hand dipped between his legs. The moment intensified as their eyes met and stayed locked onto one another. Jack watched Ianto’s facial expression closely, the boy was biting his lip to hold back whimpers. Jack wanted to hear him make noise, so he thrust harder. It worked and Ianto opened his mouth to cry out, but managed to keep looking up at Jack.

“Stroke that cock like Daddy would stroke it,” Jack told him, his hips not tiring. “Hard and good. Tell Daddy when you’re ready to come.” Ianto was so speechless all that he could do was nod vigorously, his eyes watery from not blinking.

Ianto pumped his cock just as rigorously as Jack fucked him. Within minutes Ianto was begging for release. Jack wait until he was about to spill into Ianto’s hole, before he granted his boy permission. They both cried Jack felt Ianto shoot onto his belly as he came deep into Ianto’s asshole. Ianto kept his eyes focused on Jack the entire climax, only closing his eyes when Jack slid out of him slowly and was recovering besides him.

“That was…” Ianto whispered still trying to catch his breath.

“Incredible,” Jack finished for him. He pressed his naked body up against Ianto. “I’m going to love making you my little boy Ianto.” He ran a hand through Ianto’s hair lovingly.

“I already love you being my Daddy,” Ianto leaned into his hand and kissed the palm.

“Let Daddy, clean you up,” Jack said as he started to get up from the bed. He found a towel and ran it under warm water. He washed himself first, wiping Ianto’s cum from his stomach, and wiping his cock clean. Next, he cleaned Ianto, making sure to take his time. He pulled back the foreskin and used the rough towel to clean flaccid penis thoroughly.  “Roll over, baby boy.”

Ianto made a pitful sound, but did as instructed. Jack smiled before reaching down to spread Ianto’s toned cheeks. “Daddy needs to make sure he didn’t hurt you.”

Ianto buried his head into the pillow as his body squirmed. “Are you embarrassed by Daddy looking at your hole, boy?” Jack was satisfied. Ianto’s asshole was red and swollen, but not torn or damaged permanently. When Ianto nodded his reply, Jack grinned. “Best get used to that. It belongs to Daddy.”

Jack tossed the towel aside before laying down on the bed. He pulled Ianto’s body on top of him, so Ianto could lay his head on his chest. Together they lay in silence, until Jack heard the familiar, rhythmic breathing of Ianto sleeping. Jack planted a kiss on Ianto’s brown hair and rubbed his had on Ianto’s back in circles.

                 

         ****        

 

“Boss, can we talk.”

Gibbs had been expecting Tony to corner him since they had the meeting. He had to hand it to the boy, DiNozzo had made it a whole six hours before approaching him. Gibbs was about to slip into one of the bunks for some sleep, they were a limited number of beds so people slept where they could or waited for the bunks to be free in shifts.

“Come down,” Gibbs said as he climbed down the ladder into the small room. A small space meant nothing to him as long as he had a place to sleep, he had spent enough time in the service to not care much.

Tony joined him, standing in the middle of the floor as Gibbs walked around him preparing for bed. He shuffled on his feet nervously.

“You wanted to say something, DiNozzo?” Gibbs inquired as he pulled off his shirt and put on a spare white t-shirt that Mal had given him.

“Sir,” Tony started nervously. Oh, this was going to good. “I just think… that I would be better as a Dominant. That’s all.”

Gibbs did not answer, he just proceeded to fold the shirt he had been wearing neatly. He began to unbuckle his belt, behind him he head Tony suck in breath, and he tried not to chuckle. This boy wanted to be a Dominant. Yeah. Right.

“What do you think boss?” Tony prodded.

Gibbs pulled his belt from his loops. He folded the leather over in his hands. He noticed Tony staring at it. “Not today, Anthony.”

He saw Tony relax and then he actually did chuckle.

“You want me to believe that you are a Dominant, when you could barely breath as I held a belt in my hand,” Gibbs lectured. “I don’t think I’m smacking you hard enough… or in the right places.”

                  “Boss, you don’t count,” Tony tried to back up and start again. “Everyone is submissive to you, Abby said so.”

                  This time Gibbs did not chuckle lightly he laughed out loud. It was very rare that Jethro Gibbs laughed, even smiled, but Tony was funny. “Acknowledging my dominance doesn’t help your argument.”

                  “Boss,” Tony shifted nervously again. “I’m just saying that maybe its like that guy Owen said. Maybe I belong to you, just for protection…”

                  Gibbs sighed. Tony wasn’t going to give this up. “What are you scared of DiNozzo?” He lay down on the bed, propping himself on the pillow.

                  “Boss, I’m not like Abby or Jimmy or that suit kid,” Tony reached back to rub his head as if Gibbs has smacked him. “I’m not really” He searched for word “… obedient?”

                  “Damn straight.”

                  “I mean, I follow directions well enough I guess,” Tony went on, ignoring Gibbs. “I just… I guess I’m kind of a brat.”

                  Gibbs laughed again. “I think I knew that when I made the offer.”

                  “But doesn’t that mean that I’m going to be difficult,” Tony sat on the edge of the bed, put his face into his palms, and massaged his fingers through his hair.

                  “We’ll take care of that as it comes, okay Tony?” It was the kindest voice that Tony had ever heard his boss use. 

                  “Gibbs, this is just weird.” Tony admitted with a huff.

“We’re in this for the long haul, 1000 years from our life, and on a strange planet. I’m pretty sure that everything is going to be weird,” Gibbs moved forward on the bed to put his hand on Tony’s shoulder.  “I promise, we need each other now.”

“But I’m going to mess up,” said Tony rubbed his hair again.

“That’s what the belt is for.”

**** 

They sat in the cock-pit in silence. Malcom Reynolds looked over his crew with concern. None of them wanted to do this, none of them wanted to be there.

“Look,” he finally said, putting his arms on his hips. “This ain’t the best situation, but we ain’t dead and we ain’t hurt, so this is how its gonna be. Until we can figure out how to get back to what we was doing.”

“Is there any hope?” Kaylee asked in barely a whisper. She was sitting on the grated floor, her knees tucked up to her chest.

“The other Captain, Jack, he knows some kind of Doctor,” Mal told her honestly. Though he wasn’t sure what good a doctor could do for them.

Simon echoed his doubt. “A doctor that can fix time travel?”

                  “Hell if I know,” Mal muttered with an over exaggerated shrug. “Until then…” He trailed off, unsure of what direction and advice to give them.

                  “We suck it up, and we deal with this,” Zoe finally said, standing up tall. “This ain’t any different then how we function on this ship. You all do what the Captain and I tell you to do. And Kaylee…”

                  She looked down at their mechanic, who was looking more and more childlike. “Are you sure about what you said in there?”

                  Kaylee dipped her chin in a nod. “I ain’t sure what it involves though,” Kaylee admitted, she looked between Mal and Zoe.

                  “We ain’t either grease monkey,” Mal told her, he sat down in the opposite pilot seat, and rested his hands on his knees. “I don’t think it will be to hard, though. I’m already like a father figure to this crew anyway.”

                  Kaylee nodded again. “Maybe I can talk to Abby?” She suggested. “She can teach me more?”

                  “I think that is a good idea,” Zoe agreed. “Let’s set some ground rules here first.”

                  “You ain’t never supposed to leave our sight Kaylee,” Mal told her quickly. “We don’t know what this planet is gonna be like, and I want you close so we can protect you. Especially if we’re gonna do this little girl thing, little girls can’t protect themselves.”

                  “I usually stay close to you anyway,” Kaylee reminded him, she was biting her lip.

                  “The Cap’n and I are your first points of contact if ya need something,” Zoe then jerked her head back at Wash. “Wash, Jayne, and Inara will be next. After that, do you know who you should contact?”

                  “Mr. Gibbs? Mr. Harkness. Mr.Coulson.”

                  Mal grunted in agreement with each one one of her statements. “And Kaylee,” Mal finally said. “If’n you mess up they’ll be expecting us to punish you, cause that is just the way of things around here. That ain’t gonna be much of a problem, you’re a good girl, but just in case… I reckon we’ll have to figure out what to do.”

                  “I ain’t gonna mess around,” Zoe told her in a no nonsense tone. “I’ll put you over my lap and spank you if you do something serious enough.”

                  Kaylee looked like she was about cry, but she nodded her head in agreement. “What about you, Cap’n?”

                  Mal thought about it. He leaned back in his chair and put his hands in his suspenders. “I think I’ll let the punishment fit the crime,” he finally answered with a sigh. “Zoe and I will talk about it, and if we determine a licking is the best thing, one of us will take care of it.”

                  “You got anything you want to add there, grease monkey?” Wash prodded, noting that Kaylee was shaking like a leaf.

                  “You know how Mr. Coulson said this was going to be emotional?” She reminded them. “If’n I do this… y’all gotta love me back. This ain’t a one way road.”

                  Zoe and Mal exchanged looks. They were not much for openly displaying love. Sure, they loved each other. Zoe loved her husband. They all loved Kaylee. It just was not in their nature to flaunt those feelings.

                  “We’ll try,” Zoe said speaking for all of them. It was the least they could do. This wasn’t the best situation for them, so they had to make the best of it.

                  “I guess its best we start this now,” Wash said, rising from his chair. “Your Momma and I will put your to bed.”

                  Kaylee looked at Zoe, who did not miss a beat by Wash calling her that. “If Mal is Daddy, that it’s just fittin,” Zoe finally said, surprising them all.

                  Kaylee nodded before she rose up off the floor. She gave Mal a hug as she passed. “Night.” She said as she wrapped her arms around her neck. “Daddy.” She added in a soft whispher. Mal smiled reluctantly and put his arms around Kaylee.

                  “G’night kid.”

“And you’re Uncle Wash?” She said as Wash took her hand. Wash smiled. He and Kaylee had always had a close relationship. You get to know each other real well when you are flying the ship that she worked on.

“Sounds good to me, kid,” Wash reached up and flicked her nose. Zoe took her other hand, somewhat reluctantly, but as they walked down the row of bunks her hand relaxed. They passed Kaylee’s bunk, and she looked at the confused.

                  “You told Abby she could sleep in there,” Wash reminded her, pushing the door open to his and Zoe’s bunk. “Momma and I ain’t going to sleep yet, you can lay in our bed.”

                  “K.” Kaylee followed him down the ladder, and Zoe climbed in after him. The bunk could barely hold three people, but they made it work.

                  “What do we do now?” Kaylee asked, looking at them nervously.

                  “Well,” Zoe thought out loud. “When I was little, my Momma would wash my face, help me into my pajama’s, read me a book, and then tuck me in.”

                  “Do ya wanna do that?” Kaylee asked in a soft whisper.

                  “I reckon we can,” Zoe told her, going to the sink to wet a cloth. She kicked down the fold out toilet. “Uncle Wash will disappear so you can use it.”

                  “I…” Kaylee started to argue, but it didn’t matter if Zoe was there. She was a girl. It ain’t nothing. So as Wash climbed back up the ladder to offer her privacy she did her business. By the time she was done, Zoe was standing and waiting with the rag.

                  “You can leave your overalls off,” Zoe told her. “You ain’t gonna sleep with those dirty things in my bed.”

                  Kaylee couldn’t help but smile, but she pulled up her plain, white cotton underwear and stepped over to Zoe. Zoe began to wipe Kaylee’s face with the rag, getting off the spots of grease that collected on the mechanics neck and behind her ears.

                  Kaylee hadn’t noticed that Wash had rejoined them. He began to clean up after them, picking up Kaylees’ over alls and kicking the fold up toilet back in. When Zoe was done, he folded the cover back for Kaylee. She climbed in and let him tuck the soft sheets in around her.

                  “I’ve got the operating manual to a shot gun and book of maps from the un-registered alliance planets, which one you want?” Zoe held up the dusty books.

                  Kaylee could not help but giggle. “Those ain’t bedtime stories Momma,” she corrected with a not impressed look. “Those ain’t even story books.”

                  “I don’t know,” Wash said as she rubbed Kaylee’s hair. “I bet we could come up with some fun stories by looking at those maps.”

                  “Map it is!” Zoe tossed the manual back down and came over to her husband and Kaylee. Kaylee was still giggling.

                  “Y’all don’t have to tell me a story if’n ya don’t have books,” Kaylee finally said. She sat up and hugged her knees. “That can wait till we get books.”

                  “You sure, hun?” Zoe asked as she sat on the edge of the bed beside Wash.

                  “Yeah,” Kaylee whisphered. “This was good, can we do it every night?”

                  Wash laughed out loud as Zoe grinned. “You can’t sleep in our bed every night.”

                  Kaylee laughed with them. “No… in my bed silly!”

                  Wash and Zoe exchanged looks, smiling at one another. “I think that can be arranged.”

**** 

                 

“You did good, pup.” Natasha praised Clint as they returned to the shuttle they were staying it, it was not as nice as the one they had appeared in on the other side of the ship, but it was big enough to suit all three of them. “I’m proud of you.”

“It wasn’t enough,” Clint said, almost pouting. “You were both easy on me.”

“We couldn’t scare them,” Natasha replied as she sat on of the beds. “What did you want? Phil to fuck your asshole in front of the entire ship?”

Clint made a priceless whimpering sound as he stood on shaky knees. “No.. but… I feel unfulfilled,” he jerked his chin down to the hard on in his pants.

Natasha was about to say something, but Phil spoke first. “Is this about your pleasure, boy?”

Clint made the same sound again, closing his eyes, and drawing in breath. He loved it when Phil assumed his most dominant role. “No Sir… I just thought…”

Before he could finish, Phil was behind him. The older man reached up to grasp a handful of Clint’s hair, using that to maneuver the archer towards the bed where Natasha was sitting. “What if I did fuck your tight little hole right here?” Phil whispered, only inches form Clint’s ears. “There isn’t lube on this ship and I’m not sure you’ve been good enough to earn even my spit, boy.”

Clint fell to the floor in at Phil’s feet and in front of Tasha, who was grinning with delight at the sight of the two them. “Please Sir.”

“Please Sir, what?” Phil demanded. His voice was stern, but his hand was petting Clint’s hand gently.

“I…” Clint would normally beg Phil to fuck him, but nothing about their lives was normal right now. Clint suddenly lost his entire composer before he threw himself into Tasha’s lap. He started sobbing, and all the sexual energy fled their bodies.

Phil’s heart broke for his friend and lover. Sitting down beside Tasha, he continued to rub Clint’s head. Tasha, surprisingly, laid her head on Phil’s broad shoulder as she kept petting Clint.

“Baby,” Phil whispered. “You weren’t unfulfilled. You are scared. You don’t know what you want right now. That’s okay. It’s a very terrifying situation.”

“I want to go home,” Clint cried into Tasha’s legs. “I know I sound like a little kid, Phil, but this isn’t our home. This isn’t right.”

Phil shushed him and Tasha wrapped her hands around his neck to pull him in tighter. “I know, Clint, I know.”

Tasha and Phil would hold Clint for as long as he needed it. Phil had no doubt that his agent would pull it together and they would make it threw this. Phil had seen Barton and Romanoff get out of some pretty tight scrapes, of course, it had been Phil that had picked up the emotional pieces later, but they always came through. Phil sighed as he looked over at the red head beside him. He knew that eventually, she would melt down too, and he would have to reassure her too.

“Sir?” Clint had leaned back on his heels and was wiping his eyes. He was trying to do so in the most masculine way possible, but Phil could not help but notice how innocent and childlike it made him look. “Can we try again?”

Phil chuckled. Clint was always eager. He made sure to exchange a look with Tasha, who approved with a small nod. “I think we can,” Phil moved to reposition himself. “I think I have just the job for that beautiful mouth of yours.” He began to unzip his fly.

***

“Phil. Jack. Jetro, we’re approaching landing space, can you get your teams settled in and come up to the bridge?” Mal’s voice rang out over the loud speaker. Wash was flying in the atmosphere of Masoch Da Sade, Zoe stood at his side.

“Jayne,” Mal turned to the taller man. “Kaylee’s working the engine, can you make sure that she straps in if things get bumpy?”

Jayne grunted and moved out of the door as Phil and Jethro entered. Jack was not far behind them; he was climbing up one of the bunk ladders as Jayne strolled past.

“We’re cleared for docking Captain,” Wash muttered as he typed a few buttons and read a screen. He typed in the coordinates and pulled up the information. “That makes no sense.”

“What is it Wash?” Mal leaned over to read the screen.

“Shit, they are suspicious,” Mal was about to fly into panic mode.

“Captain,” Jethro reminded him. “We have no clue what is happening here.”

“We’re being instructed to dock in restricted area,” Mal explained quickly. “For a meeting with the prime minister.”

“I took the liberty of contacting her,” Jack interrupted, standing with his hands behind his back and looking out the window as the planet drew closer. “Tosh plugged into your communication system and it was easy to send her a transmission.”

“You what?” Mal demanded angrily, throwing the speaker down. “You hacked my ship.”

“Forgive me, Captain,” Jack said, though his apology held very little sincerity. “I thought it best to have a point of contact on this planet that we can trust. Let’s just say… that I know the Prime Ministers family.”

Mal was about to punch this man in the face. In fact, he felt like shooting him. To bad he could not die. “You could have endangered us. You could-

“He did say that he had been to this planet before,” Jethro interjected quickly.

“That’s right,” Phil added. “Having a point of contact, especially with an important individual can mean the difference between life and death.”

Jack smirked. “You’re welcome Captain Reynolds.”

Mal continued to glare at him, before turning to Wash. “Land at the given coordinates.”

“Her name is Cornelia Applegate,” Jack explained as the their point of landing became closer and closer. “Her mother, who I was very good friends with, was the former prime minister during the time of my original visit here.”

“You wouldn’t happen to be this women’s father, would you?” asked Phil accusingly.

Jack smirked. “I never slept with Amelia Applegate if that is what you are trying to hint at. Breeding on Masoch De Sade is restricted; there is no unauthorized pregnancy. All males are sterilized at puberty, but not before donating to a sperm bank. A women can apply for pregnancy at any point, and is approved based on population control status.”

“So women are injected with 13-year-old boy sperm?” Wash asked, sounding disgusted.

“A sperm is a sperm is a sperm.” Jack answered.

“Were you sterilized?” Wash prodded further. “Will we have to get sterilized?” He looked at Zoe.

“No,” Jack said quickly. “But Zoe will be asked to take contraception.”

“This planet is so weird…” Mal muttered as they came in for landing. He spoke into the speaker. “Ain’t no one going to be in the cargo bay except us once my boat docks. If I see one foot inside there that ain’t authorized, I’ll whip you…”

“Whip them Captain?” Zoe asked with raised eyebrows.

Mal shrugged. “Might as well get ‘em used to it.”

Wash landed Serenity with ease, and the four leaders left him and Zoe on the bridge.

“Just let me do the talking, okay?” Jack told them as Mal started to open the cargo bay door. As soon as the back of Serenity was open, an entourage of people poured in. At the head of it was a lovely, blonde women dressed in a long, flowing purple dress.

“Minister Applegate!” Jack stepped forward and offered his hand. The lady smiled and instead of taking his hand, hugged him.

“You must be Captain Harkness,” she said grinning. “My mother speaks so highly about you. I was only a tiny child when you left.”

“Your mother is one of the kindest ladies I have every met,” Jack replied politely. “And the most hospitable, how is Ameila?”

“Unwell I am afraid,” Cornelia replied with a frown. “But she will be cheered up by your arrival. It’s been years since you left us. We did not know you planned to return.”

“Neither did I,” Jack answered with a forced smile. “I brought some refugee’s with me.” He held at his hand to the three men standing behind him. “They are new, but are very curious to live on Masoch De Sade, but the need traveling visa’s. Like the one your mother gave me, there may be a time that I need to leave, and so do they. We cannot become full citizens.”

Cornelia thought for a second, and then smiled. “That won’t be a problem Jack. Mother always spoke so highly of you, she never explained why you left, but she said it was important enough that she had no trouble allowing you to go. If these people are with you, then I feel that deserve the same respect.”

Jack gave her a little bow. “Your consideration is very appreciated.”

Cornelia hugged him again. “I’m just happy you can bring some cheer to my mother.” She turned to the men who had remained silent, and awe struck by Jack’s sudden use of manners. “You need lodging for four?”

“Twenty two.” Jack corrected her politely.

Cornelia laughed. “I’ll put you up in my summer condo’s, they are also well enough away from the main city that your friends can learn our lifestyle at their own pace. How long do you think you will be staying?”

“We’re not sure, Minister,” Jack told her honestly. “We will let you know as soon as soon as we have more information.”

Cornelia nodded. “In the mean time, your refugees will participate as much as possible. For now, take the time to settle in, I’m sure I can find you places within the community if it turns out to be longer then expected.”

Like mother, like daughter. The Applegates did not ask many questions. Jack liked it that way.

“Jack, would you care to join myself and my mother for dinner?” Cornelia requested after everything had been decided.

“After I get my friends settled in, absolutely.” Jack answered, smiling.

“Wonderful, I will leave Alto with you. He belongs to my councilman Jenson, but will not be needed until tonight. He will escort you to the transport and then to your lodging. Feel free to contact me for any needs, Jack Harkness.” She turned to go.

“Mam?” Mal Renyolds stepped forward.

“You are?” She looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Captain Mal Reynolds,” Mal said quickly. “This is my ship. Where can I..”

“The ship stays docked, Mr. Reynolds,” Cornelia said quickly. “The ship docks are so rarely used that is extremely safe, however, I can put some of my men to guard it?”

Mal considered this. He didn’t want to leave Serenity; he had never left Serenity for longer then a few days since he and Zoe bought her. Jack was glaring at him. He did not want to raise suspicion, so he had to give in somewhere. “I guess that’ll work.”

“Good,” Cornelia nodded to one of her attending, who scribbled something onto a pad in his hands. “I will see you soon Captain Harkness.”

As soon as the door closed tightly, Jack looked at Alto. He was a skinny, young thing. He reminded Jack so much of Ianto, that it made him laugh. “Alto would you excuse us for a moment.”

He raced up the metal staircase and the three men followed him, still speechless.

                 

                                   

                  


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1.) This chapter is extremely un-edited. I ran through it a few times, but I was not doing very good editing. Forgive me.  
> 2.) A lot of this chapter is mostly filler. Lots of plot development and all that good jazz. Only a tad bit of smut.  
> 3.) My plot bunnies are hungry, and I had to strain to push out this chapter. So feedback and suggestion is appreciated.  
> 4.) I spent several hours making floor plans of the condos, you can find them on my tumblr here if you are interested. http://princessladybug.tumblr.com/post/65056130649/these-are-for-my-crossover-story-reference  
> 5.) Still don't own any of these characters. Except the ones on Masoch De Sade. They are mine. Alto and Jensen might show up later, I don't know.  
> 6.) Usual warning.BDSM/Kink/AgePlay... all types of alternative sex lifestyles are based on hours and hours of communication and consent. Do not try this at home just for funsies. Do you research, talk to your partner. Sure it’s fun to read about and fap too, but some of the stuff is not only physically dangerous, but can emotionally manipulate a person to an unhealthy level.  
> 7.) Also, I got retweeted by Clark Gregg (Phil Coulson), which was awesome.  
> 8.) I started watching Supernatural a few days ago. I'm addicted. So don't be surprised if somehow Dean and Castiel end up in this fic at some point.  
> 9.) Also, I have trouble getting the whole chapter to format correctly. I apologize.  
> 10.) I'm done. Enjoy!

Alto waited patiently for them to prepare. The crew of Serenity was the only one that had things to pack. Most of them packed personal items and some clothes and were ready, but Kaylee spent almost an hour in her bunk. Everyone had assembled in the cargo bay, waiting for the mechanic to join them.

            “What is taking that girl,” Mal muttered, pacing.

            “Ain’t easy to pick between your shiney things,” Wash reminded him, and he was already climbing the metal staircase to retrieve their wayward girl. “I’ll handle it.”

            When Wash descended into Kaylee’s bunk, he was hit with a tornado of things all at once. Kaylee was on the bed crying, surrounded by a mess of her things. Beside her was an empty duffle bag that had only a pair of pants in it.

            “I can’t get my shiney ball dress to fit,” she sobbed into her hands. “I can’t get my things off the walls.”

            Wash’s heart broke for Kaylee. He kneeled in front of her, and took her hands. “Shh, grease monkey, shh.” Wash reached up and wiped a tear from her cheek. “Everything will be okay.”

            “But my shiney dress,” she wailed looking over at the pink, frilly dress that hung on display. “Cap’n bought for me, it’s special. I can’t leave it here.”

            “You’re right,” Wash pulled her into a hug, patting and rubbing her back in comfort. “But ain’t no one gonna bother it on Serenity.”

            “I need to take it, if’n I need to wear it for something!” She sobbed into his shoulder. “I need to take all my things.”

            “Hey, mei mei,” Wash pushed her back at arms lenght, and tipped her chin to look at her eyes. “I promise that you and I will come back for all your things when we’re settled in.”

            “I wanna stay here,” Kaylee jerked her head away. She pulled her knee’s up to her chest, and buried her face into them.

            Wash had never seen Kaylee this emotional. She had always been sensitive, but she kept herself together well. Wash cleared his throat, before standing up. “I ain’t gonna be nice about it again Kayleebug,” it sounded pathetic, not stern. “We have to go. I can help you, but you gotta let me. Staying here ain’t an option.”

            Kaylee looked up at him in surprise, her mouth gaping a little bit. It was the small push she needed to get her head back on straight. “You promise we’ll come get my things?”

            “I promise,” Wash softened again. “And we’ll talk to Jack... he can get you new things.”

            “Okay.” Kaylee gave in with a sniffle. She pointed to a pile of clothes on the floor. “Just those I suppose.”

            “Good choice, kid,” Wash picked them up and began to stuff them in the duffle bag. Together, they packed the bag till Kaylee was satisfied, and Wash could no longer put anything into it.

            “Now, go wash your face, and blow your nose,” Wash instructed, with a smile. Kaylee walked over to her small sink to dip her face in the running water. When she was ready, Wash tossed the duffle bag over his shoulder and followed her to the cargo bay.

            “You doing okay, monkey?” Mal asked as they joined them. Inara smiled at the moment of sensitivity that the Captain was showing.

            “Yeah, I’m just a little sad,” Kaylee admitted.

            “Stick with me, Kaylee,” Abby volunteered, stepping forward. She took Kaylee’s hand in hers. “We’re bad bitches.”

            Jethro snorted. Even Phil laughed. They were adorable.

            “As long as your are bad bitches that don’t get into trouble,” Zoe reminded them, as she started to open the cargo bay.

            “Of course!” Abby said automatically. River stepped up and took Abby’s other hand. Shrugging, Abby didn’t care and the three of them walked off the cargo bay into their new world together.

***      

            The transport ride was quick, taking them about an hour out of the main city where they landed. The condominiums were perched on top of a small mountain, which overlooked the ocean. They were gated and Alto punched in a code before handing a piece of paper to Phil. As the drove up the mountain, the scenery became even more beautiful. Behind them the city was become smaller to their eyes and before them was the grey of the never ceasing ocean.

            “There are six condo’s here,” Alto explained as the transport pulled into the view of the buildings. “The road you are on makes a circle around them, there is pool and patio between them. The Prime Minister often uses this location to host parties for many guests.”

            “Damn,” Tony said out loud as they stopped in front of one of the houses. “Living in luxury.”

            Gibbs smacked him for good measure.

            “The two condo’s to the northface and the two on the south both have five bedroom’s, and are two stories,” Alto explained as he pulled out small white envelopes. He was speaking to Phil, whom Alto had seemed to pinpoint as the most dominant of the group. “The one on the east and west are the largest and have up to eight rooms and optional offices. The codes I gave you will get your in, but someone will come around tomorrow to register your finger prints and have retina scans for easier access.”

            “High tech,” McGee muttered, shaking his hand. “I like it.”

            “We have had food and entertainment delivered for you,” Alto said as they all clambered out of the transport in front of the west condo.

            “Entertainment?” Mal inquired with a puzzled look. He was not enthusiastic about what was considered entertainment on this planet.

            “Data pads,” Alto explained waiving his own hand held tablet.

            “Sweet, Ipads,” Tosh said happily. “Something I am familiar with.”

            The crew of Serenity was looking at her in confusion. Alto was also looking at her with a puzzled expression. “Sorry, techie thing.” And she stepped back behind Jack.

            “Would you like a tour?” Alto asked respectfully.

            “That’ wont be necessary,” Jack said before anyone could answer. “I think we can find our ways around. Thank you Alto, you have been very helpful.”

            Alto bowed his head and climbed back on the transport without another word.

            “Guess its time to pick our new homes,” Gibbs muttered as Phil passed him some of the paperwork. They contained floor plans and information for each house. “Probably best if Mal takes one of the bigger condo’s and I take the other, we both have the most people.”

            “There are six condos, I’m getting my own,” Tony announced. Another Gibbs slap, except this time it connected with the agent’s backside and not the back of his head. Tony flushed red and whipped around as if he was about to challenge his boss. Gibbs lowed his gaze, in a look that said. “Who will win?” Tony backed off still wearing a crimson frown.

            Abby giggled. Jethro whirled on her. “Don’t push your luck.”

            The goth girl widened her eyes in surprise, she opened her mouth to say something, but stopped abruptly.

            “Do you mind, I’m going to put my team to bed,” Jethro announced, he put his hand on the back of Palmer’s neck and massaged with his fingers. At least Jimmy was being quiet and behaved, and he knew that he would have to take every opportunity to use positive reinforcement if he wanted to avoid issues. This wasn’t the NCIS bullpen anymore, he had to be sensitive to the emotional needs of his team. Especially if he was going to be their Dominant.

            “But it’s still light outside,” Tony objected. There was a collective chuckle from Phil and his two agents.

            “If they do that without forcing me to remove my belt will be a miracle,” Jethro took the envelope that Phil handed him and moved, with his hand still on Jimmy’s neck, toward the direction of the west condo. The rest of his team followed him.

            “Mal do you want the east Condo?” Phil asked holding out the packet. “You have a lot of people, so you need the biggest.”

            Mal nodded his chin and took the paperwork. “Let’s go settle in,” he walked off with his team who all seemed in awe by the luxuriousness of this place.

            “Phil,” Jack stepped forward, taking the balding man aside. Generally, people did not call him Phil. Even Clint and Tasha called him Coulson most times, but he had to adjust his expectations.

            “Jack.”

            “About playing,” he lowed his voice so his Torchwood would not overhear. “Ianto and I might want to try some more riskier things… and… you know? You seem to be the person to ask.”

            “Are you admitting that you don’t know how to do something, Harkness?” Phil said with a cool smile.

            “No…” Jack said quickly. “I just think if I’m going to have the potential to hurt the love of my life, I best be doing it right.”

            Phil chuckled before nodding. “I see your point,” he motioned for Tasha to join them. “Anything we do I run by Natasha first, so we once we’re settled, we can work something out.”

            Natasha grinned, she rose on her toe to whisper something into Phil’s ear, an evil grin on her face. “No Tasha, I serious doubt it.” Phil said out loud shaking his head. She looked saddened.

            Jack watched with bemusement, until he just nodded in acceptance and back away. “Thanks Phil, we’ll take the condo next to Jethro.” Phil handed him the packet, and Jack thanked him by waving. He walked off hand in hand with Ianto.

            “That leaves us with this one,” Phil started towards the condo the left of Jack’s. Sure, he could have picked one of the two on the opposite side of the pool, but they needed to be close to each other. Just in case. Even though they barely knew one another, becoming a well functioning group would be very important if they were to make it on this new planet.

***      

            “Ain’t never seen so many shiny things in my gorram life,” Jayne muttered as they walked the condo.

            “There aren’t pull out toilets in the bedrooms!” Kaylee announced running from one of the rooms. “Where do you…”

            “I think I found the bathroom!” Simon called out. They all went to investigate. River was turning the knobs on the sink.

            “Is that a bathtub?!” Kaylee said as she push passed Simon and River. “This is fine living! The first thing I’m gonna do is soak for hours!”

            “First thing you’re gonna do is eat something,” Zoe told her pointedly, leaving the tiny, crowded bathroom. “Best go see if we can find the kitchen.” They did, after finding several other wonderful things; closets, staircases, bookshelves, comfy couches, and beds.

            “Are them berries?” Kaylee asked as Mal opened up the chiller. There was an abundance of food, not the the protein space food they were used too.  There were fresh fruits and vegetables, some were strange to them, a drawer full of different kinds of white and red meats, a glass caraffs of multi colored liqui, and the best surprise of all… a carton of eggs. Eggs never changed much, Mal knew what they were right away.

                        “Thank you whatever power that be.” He muttered into the fridge.

Kaylee had already dived underneath him and was picking at the berries. “These aren’t strawberries,” she muttered, her mouth full of small red berries. “But they’re delicious.”

Jayne was opening cabinets. “There is more food here,” he announced, taking a white container from the cabinet.  He read the label. “Chocolate Chip Cookies.”

Kaylee squealed and darted towards him. Jayne expertly held them above her head. “When she said eat I don’t think she meant berries and cookies.”

Kaylee jumped in attempt to reach the carton of cookies. Zoe maneuvered around her and took them from Jayne. “I know you’re excited,” she said, putting the cookies back in the cabinet. “But can you find something healthy to eat.”

River had bent down and was going through a cabinet with several cans. She held up one with funny shapes. “Pasta.”

“And we have a microwave!” Kaylee said happily. They had been things out of cans, warmed on a burner for years. Looking around she found bowls for them. “Jayne can you open these, please?”

Jayne grunted and started looking through drawers for a can opener.

“I think it’s this,” Simon said as he pressed down on a funny machine. It whirred and a blade spun around. “You put the can here and the blade cuts through it. It’s called a can opener.”

“Right, that’s original,” Jayne said as he took the can and followed directions. Soon Kaylee and River were eating canned pasta at the nearby table.

“I bet the beds is real comfy,” Kaylee said longingly.

“Speaking of beds,” Mal said, he was munching on a piece of toast after Simon had taught them how to use a toaster. “Bunking assignments. Big room upstairs is mine. Kaylee… you’re across from me.” Kaylee nodded, not really caring much. “Wash and Zoe, big bed room downstairs. Simon and River, the bed rooms down stairs with the bathroom in the middle. Jayne and Inara, pick between the two rooms upstairs.”

Simple enough. No one had any complaints. Kaylee finished her bowl of pasta, wiped her mouth, and looked at Zoe pleadingly. “Now will you share the cookies.”

They all laughed at her persistance, but Kaylee and River both got a cookie.

***

“You know boss,” Tony said, stuffing his face with a slice of cheese. “This place ain’t to bad.”

“Glad you think that Tony,” Gibbs was looking through the cabinets for coffee. They still had coffee right?

“Oh my gosh! The bedrooms are awesome!” Abby said, coming into the kitchen and sitting at the table. Ziva was already there nursing a glass of water.

“I’m still not sure that we should settle,” Ziva said, turning the glass on the table. “This is not our home.”

“Who said anything about settling,” Tony muttered, shoving his face with another strange cheese. “This is like vacation, and trust me Ziva, you could use one.”

Ziva glared at him. Gibbs ignored their bantering. He found coffee, now how did he make it.

“This is not a vacation, Tony,” Ziva threw back. “This is a serious situation and we could be in danger.”

“Say serious situation five times fast,” Tony told her as he closed the fridge and started rummaging through the pantry.

“I don’t think we’re in danger,” Jimmy noted as she joined them, leaning in the doorway. “But I’m not an agent, so what do I know.”

“I agree with you Palmer,” Jethro said. Tony looked up with a piece of break hanging from his mouth, shocked that Jethro was in agreement with their assistant cornier. “We’re not in danger, we’re just up the creek without a paddle.”

“I wouldn’t say that Gibbs,” Abby muttered spinning her ponytail on her finger. “I’m sure you could get a paddle.”

Jethro gave her that look and she chuckled nervously. “Where’s McGee?”

“He passed out as soon as we decided which room was his,” Jimmy replied. He pushed a French Press across the counter towards Gibbs.

“1000 years in the future and they use a French Press,” Gibbs muttered in frustration. “Whatever… its coffee.”

Tony suddenly placed a hand over his mouth, and ran from the room. Jethro shook his head and set the press and coffee back down. “Abby.” His one word, followed up by a look instructed her to continue making his coffee. He followed Tony into the bathroom, where is he’s ridding himself of the strange cheeses that he had just consumed. Gibbs let him vomit while he wet a cloth with cool water. He waited while Tony explled the contents of his stomach.

            When Tony was done and he reached up to flush the toilet, Gibbs put the cloth on the back of the agents neck.

“Word of advice, DiNozzo,” Jethro said, rubbing Tony’s back. “Don’t eat strange cheese in a fridge you just opened.”

“Noted boss,” Tony said into the toilet bowl.

“Let’s get you up to bed.” Jethro helped him up. Together they walked up the stairs. Tony wanted to feel embarrassed by all this, but his insides felt like they were about to rip out of his stomach. He didn’t have enough energy to even tell Gibbs that he would be okay. Man, that came on fast.

Gibbs lead him into the Master bedroom and to the bed.

“Boss?” He finally managed to say something. “This is your room.”

“Your point DiNozzo?” Jethro was pulling back the covers for Tony to slide in. Tony looked at the bed in confusion. “I want you close to a bathroom, there is one right there. And that came on really quick, I want to make sure you’re okay.”

Tony shrugged and crawled on the bed, mostly because he did not want to stand anymore. “Didn’t know you cared, boss.”

Jethro shook his head. “Keep it up, Tony,” Jethro warned, walking to the door. “If you want to push me, I’ll push back, and my belt hurts worse.” He flipped off the light and started to close the door.

“Boss?” Tony called in a miserable voice.

“Yeah, DiNozzo?”

“Where are you gonna sleep?”

Jethro smiled to himself. Of course it would be awkward for Tony. Jethro could care less. To him, a place to lie your head was a place to lie your head. “The recliner in the corner works just fine.”

“Okay.” Tony muttered, unable to say anymore. Gibbs pulled the door closed before going downstairs for his coffee. It was time to get the other kids in bed, then he could relax and process his thoughts while he watched over Tony.

***

            _“That was very naughty, Simon.”_

_Mal was standing over him, scolding him with hands on his hips and a stare that would turn anyone to a shivering ball of hysterics. Simon, managed to keep his composure, if you considered wringing your sweaty hands together and shuffling your feet from side to side was any measure of composure._

_“It won’t happen again, Sir,” Simon managed to blurt out, but it came out in a whisper._

_“Damn right it won’t,” Mal announced, gripping the slightly taller man by the upper arm to pull him towards the bed. Where he promptly sat down and began to roll up his sleeves._

_“Sir, what are you doing?” Simon asked him quickly, but he knew what was about to happen. His body was tingling in anticipation of the punishment that Mal was about to dish out. A spanking. Simon had never been spanked before._

_“Boy,” Mal said as she began to work Simon out of his trousers. “You know what I’m about to do to you.”_

_Simon felt his body rise in temperature. Mal was about to take his pants off, put him over his lap, and spank him until he was crying. There was no way he could control himself, he felt his cock starting to swell at the promise. Mal would notice that for sure, Simon panicked. He pulled back against Mal’s grip. “You-You…can’t?”_

_“Since when can’t I spank your bare bottom, little boy?” Mal demanded angrily, reaching out for Simon once more. Simon was not brave enough to defy Mal entirely, so he was easy caught and maneuvered back into place.  Mal jerked the pants down to his knees. If he saw Simon’s cock pressing against his briefs, he made no mention of it until after he had instructed Simon to step out of his pants._

_“And if you think that Daddy is going to take care of that after the stunt ya pulled,” Mal lectured nodding at Simon’s growing erection. “Then ya best keep dreaming.”_

_“Yes Daddy,” he muttered without hesitation. He had called Mal Daddy. That was okay, right? Mal had called himself Daddy first. Simon had barely a few seconds to consider this before Mal was taking down his briefs down to his ankles. Of course, his cock sprung to life onto his belly, and Simon felt three feet tall as Mal examined his naked lower half. He did not call attention to Simon’s cock again, he did not need too. They were both aware of it, and Mal had already told him what he thought about it._

_Mal might have been a few inches shorter then Simon, but he was stronger and more muscular. It took very little effort to bodily maneuver the doctor over his lap. Knowingly, he reached under Simon’s abdomen and tucked the raging hard on between Mal’s knees, preventing Simon from getting pleasure from any friction. Simon whimpered at how roughly Mal handled him; he touched Simon’s cock as if he had done a million times before._

_“I ain’t putting up with this behavior from you, little boy,” Mal lectured and wasted no time bringing his palm down on the milk white cheeks. Simon should not have been surprised at the power of Mal spanking him. He was a strong man, and he was angry. Simon was already regretting his mistake._

_Over and over he spanked, raising red handprints each time he smacked down. Simon tried to be good, as he always did. He wanted to submit to the spanking and take it like a man, but he was already responding. As his feet started to kick, trying to buck himself off Mal’s lap, Mal responded by wrapping his left hand around his waist to hold him in place._

_When he could no longer try and escape, he was forced to cry out. He made a pleading sound with each smack to his hindquarters, hoping to appeal to Mal’s sensitivity. Mal, of course, was immune and continued to spank with no reprieve._

_When that did not work, Simon did the last thing he could think off. He tossed his hand back in a desperate attempt to shield his bottom from Mal’s punishing hand._

_“Simon,” Mal stopped spanking long enough to speak in a deadly stern tone. “If ya don’t move yer hand, I’m gonna take my belt off and I’m gonna lick your backside and your legs till you’re screaming.”_

_Simon groaned miserably as he drew his hand back in front of him. He gripped onto the bed sheets till his knuckles were white. Mal resumed the spanking, raising his hand high above his head to bring it down crisply and rapidly onto the reddening flesh._

_He wouldn’t stop till he was satisfied that Simon had learned his lesson. That usually meant that Simon was a blubbering mess over his lap, and there wasn’t an inch of fight left in him._

_They were far from that moment, and Mal knew it was time to talk to his boy while is spanked. The spanking itself would not put Simon over the edge, but a good scolding would._

_“Boy,” Mal decreased the intensity of the spanks, but kept a smooth rhythm of sound slaps that made Simon flinch. “Let’s talk about yer behavior.”_

_“Yes… yes… Daddy.” Simon breathed out, squirming miserably at the swats that he was getting. They were not painful, but on top of his scorching skin they still stung._

_“Yer body belongs to me,” Mal lectured. “Yer mine, ya hear? You don’t pull stunts like that with my property.”_

_“Yes sir,” Simon was breathing hard as he spoke. He felt his cock twitching to life again. He liked being owned, possessed by Malcom Renyolds. “Yours.”_

_“And what happens to little boys that forget their place,” Mal stopped spanking and placed his palm on the heated flesh. His fingers slid up and down the crease of Simon’s ass._

_Simon gasped as he began to wiggle again frantically. “Not that Daddy!”_

_“Say it Simon,” Mal ordered, his large finger had found Simon’s puckered asshole, and he was massaging the wrinkled flesh._

_Simon could not say it. No matter how many times that he opened his mouth to say the words, no sound would come out. “Please,” he begged in a panicked whimpered._

_“Now Simon!” Mal barked. Simon jumped at the sound of his voice,  and so did his cock that was still between Mal’s legs. No doubt the Captain felt how hard it was getting._

_“Naughty boys get…” He paused and sucked air in. “Daddy’s fingers in their…” He sobbed. “Bottom holes.”_

_“That’s right,” Mal answered without praise. And as a reward he shoved his finger roughly into Simon’s tight anus._

 

            Simon bolted upright in bed, screaming. He was unbelievably hard, to the point that his cock was painful. He ran his hands through his hair before he reached over to turn on the bedside light.

            He had not had erotic dreams about Mal like this before. In fact, he had never even thought of Mal in a sexual away before. He thought about the psychological effects of this planet and the company they were keeping, but his cock was begging to be touched. “Next time Jack and Ianto fuck each other, I’m going to make sure to not listen.” He mentally scolded himself. He chalked up the fantasy to being a nosey voyeur. Suddenly images flashed through his mind of Mal scolding him for being a perverted little boy. Simon noticed the rush of need to his groin.

            “I can’t jerk off to this fantasy,” Simon told himself angrily as he rolled out of bed. “That’s fucked up.” He went into the bathroom to stare at the shower. A cold shower would fix the problem, but so would his hand and a warm shower. Turning the knob of the shower, he listened to the running water for a few seconds before he began to strip off his shirt. His sleeping pants and boxers followed, leaving him naked in front of the full-length mirror. He admired his body for a few seconds, placing his hand around the base of his cock and stroking it to relieve a little pressure. Turning, he checked out his backside. It was round, toned, and fit. Any person would want to spank it. Closing his eyes, he imagined Mal turning the skin red with his powerful hand.

            “You’re a naughty little boy,” Mal would whisper into his ear as he would reach around to grip Simon’s cock. Soon it was not Simon’s dick, but Mal’s. The image of Mal jerking him off made him flash back into reality.

            “I’m going to the special hell,” Simon said out loud, bending over the sink, breathing hard.

            He stepped into the shower, and instead of imaging Mal he tried to imagine Kaylee. That she was spread upon before him, naked and willing. He was going to fuck her, and they were bothing going to love it.

            The warm water rushed over his body as he laid his forehead on the wall. His hand jerked his cock vigorously, as he thought of pumping in and out of Kaylee’s wet pussy. He fucked Kaylee in his head for several long minutes, he cock was aching for release, but no amount of dirty conversation in his head would send him over the edge.

            Clenching his free fist, he banged it against the wall angrily. In an instant Kaylee was gone, and his thoughts were replaced by Mal. Mal was not touching him, just looking at him. Fixing him with a look that made Simon go weak at his knees. Simon did not realize that he was stroking himself again. Mal just watched him, giving approving nods when Simon would moan or gasp.

            “Come for me, boy,” said his fantasy of Mal. “Now!”

            Simon’s cock responded instantly as it shot cum forward. It mixed with the shower and went down the drain. Simon fell on the wall, letting it support his weight as she tried to regain his breath. It took a few minutes, but when his mind had returned to a conscious state he realized what he had done.

            He had dreamed about his Captain in an erotic way. He had jerked off to his captain. This was not right. This was a desperate attempt to feel sexually satisfied. Simon’s back slid down the bathtub wall until he was a curled up bawl in the shower. The water hid his tears, but his sobs were clear.

            “Simon?” River had stuck her head.

            “Get out! Go away!” Simon had not meant to yell at his little sister, but he was still emotionally venerable to his feelings.

            River did not say anything else. Simon assumed that she left. He stayed in the shower till the water was cold and he was shivering. He wrapped a towel around his body, walked back to his room, locked the door, and collapsed into his bed. He would just have to pretend this all never happened.

***

            “Oi.” Gwen said with a sigh as she joined her team at the table for breakfast. “It was nice to sleep on a real bed again.”

            “Small things,” Tosh said as she browsed through one of the data pads that had been left for them.

            Ianto placed a cup of coffee in front of Gwen, who took it with a grateful smile. “Ianto,” she muttered inhaling the smell. “I could never live on a world without your coffee.”

            Ianto smiled as he backed up to the toaster that had gone off. “I’m not sure you’ll say that after you taste it,” Ianto told her putting the toast on a plate. “It’s not very good this stuff.”

            Gwen did notice the slight change in taste, but having coffee right now was a luxury no matter how diluted it might be.

            “I’m headed to the Prime Minster’s office,” Jack announced as he came down the stairs. Jack kissed Ianto on the cheek in thanks for the cup of coffee that was waiting for him.

            “What do you think you’re going to solve?” Owen asked, he was sampling some of the juices. A light pink one made him pucker his lips.

            “I need to know what there advances are on time travel here,” Jack took a muffin from the plate that Ianto was holding. “And if its not, then we have to start working on it. Plenty of smart minds in our new crew to put to work.”

            “To bad we can’t just investigate aliens,” Gwen said with a chuckle as Ianto passed around the muffins.

            “Maybe we can,” Jack said with a grin. “I’m really good friends with these people. Who knows what I can fish up for us.”

            With a final kiss to Ianto, he headed out the door.

***

            Mal had only seen small glimpses of his crew since last night. None of them had shown up for breakfast, except for Inara who left to visit Phil shortly after. Jayne was in the living room, where he had been all night playing some shooting game on the holographic television. Kaylee passed out in her bed, which she described as heaven, and had been in the bathtub since before Mal got up. Zoe and Wash slept late when they could, so he wasn’t surprised to be missing them. River wandered around the house looking at things. She would eat something from the kitchen, flush the toilet with a giggle, and then watch Jayne shoot aliens.

            In fact, Simon was the only individual of his crew that he was concerned about. After showing them how to use the appliances in the kitchen, he had disappeared.

            “Albatross,” Mal said, he leaned on the couch behind River who was shouting, “pew pew pew” at the game. Mal smiled at her, knowing that the pretend gunshots were only a glimpse of how dangerous the girl could be. “Where’s that doctor brother of yours.”

            “In his room,” River answered as if it was obvious. “He yelled at me to go away.”

            “He yelled at you?” Mal inquired with a puzzled expression.

            “That don’t sound like the doctor,” Jayne said out loud as he pointed the controller at the holo and pressed the button rapidly.

            “Yer damn right it doesn’t,” Mal muttered and he was already starting to the staircase.

            “He doesn’t want to see anyone,” River told Mal before he could descend in the basement. “He said that he hated you. That’s okay. Everyone hates you.”

            “I would say that’s the most accurate thing that you have ever said crazy girl,” Jayne said angrily. He had just lost the game so he threw the controller down.

            “I’ll deal with you later,” Mal told him before he went down the steps towards to the room that Simon had claimed.

            “Ya gonna come eat or something?” Mal asked as he knocked on the door. “Can’t skip chow, no matter how weird this place is.”

            “No, thank you,” Simon called out. At least he was polite.

            “Then I will see you for lunch chow,” Mal told him. He was not going to fight with him, not about this. It was him that was going to suffer.

            “Maybe.”

            “Fair enough.” Mal had turned to leave when he heard something crash in Simon’s room. THAT worried him. He started to wiggle the doorknob, finding it locked, big surprise.

            “Open the door,” Mal ordered in a no-nonsense tone.

            “I’m fine,” Simon said quickly. “I just dropped something.”

            “You expect me to believe that?” Mal demanded in an angry tone. “You broke something.”

            Simon gulped, remembering his dream. That tone. He wanted to sob again because he felt like his was exploiting Mal for his own sexual fantasies.

            “Mal, it’s nothing,” Simon managed to say in a calm voice. “I knocked over the lamp, it broke… I’ll fix it.” Which was not true, of course, he had thrown the lamp across the room, when Mal did not give the response that he had wanted. What had he wanted? Mal to play Daddy? No, that was only in his dreams. It had to stay there.

            “Okay,” Mal said cautiously. “Don’t hurt yourself and come eat.” With that, he was gone, and Simon was left to cry again.

 

 

           

           

           

 

 

           

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Sorry this took so long. It's really long, it has both plot development and smut. I did take time to edit this myself, but I'm not the best self beta. Keep that in mind as you read.  
> 2\. Thank you Strider0170 for correcting some of my mis-information. He pointed out that Simon is actually shorter then Mal. I did not remember, so I wrote as how I pictured it instead of doing my research. I will be going back to correct soon.  
> 3\. I post snippets on my tumblr, unedited, but for feedback from my tumblr followers. You can find my tumblr [here](http://princessladybug.tumblr.com/).  
> 4\. I'm still learning how to format, so still asking forgiveness if the whole story does not format the way it should.  
> 5\. Usual comments. Don't own these characters, except Jensen, Cornelia, Alto, and Serena.  
> 6\. BDSM/Kink/AgePlay... all types of alternative sex lifestyles are based on hours and hours of communication and consent. Do not try this at home just for funsies. Do you research, talk to your partner. Sure it’s fun to read about and fap too, but some of the stuff is not only physically dangerous, but can emotionally manipulate a person to an unhealthy level.  
> 7\. Remember. If you want to see something specific... leave your feedback. I'm not a mind reader!  
> 8.) This chapter has a few trigger warnings. Past child abuse, it is only in reference, not a lot of details. Also the smut is pretty graphic. So if either of these things offend... don't read.

                  

 

 

                   Jack spent several long minutes arguing with the desk attendant about his authorization to see the Prime Minister or not. The lady continued to insist that he take a seat until Ms. Applegate had visiting hours in the late afternoon. Jack attempted to reason with her using his charismatic attitude, but when that was not enough he did what he did best.

                  “Mmm. It’s nice to have someone who can set limits,” Jack’s cooed smoothly. “I bet you’re one tough Dominant.”

                  The lady glared at him, before she reached up to the neck of her shirt, pulled it back, and reveled a beautiful, ornate collar. It looked vaguely familiar to him. “You must be a refugee,” she answered with a sneer. “It against the law to make advances on someone else’s submissive.”

                  “It is also against the law to not have your token of ownership visible,” Jack challenged, leaning forward on the desk. He was visibly frustrated by the whole situation. Since he was unfamiliar with the feeling of his flirtatious being rejected, he was out of options.

                  “Are you threatening me, Mr. Harkness?” The lady asked him raising her thick, brown eyebrows. For a submissive, she was extremely confrontational. No wonder, Jack had been confused by her identification.

                  “No,” Jack answered coolly. “I’m trying to manipulate you enough so that I can see my friend Cornelia Applegate.”

                  “I’m not sure she is actually your friend, Mr. Harkness,” said the attendant as she linked her fingers together on her lap and leaned back into her chair. “Why would the Prime Minister want to see a refugee?”

                  “I already told you,” Jack slammed his fist down on the desk angrily. “I’m not a refugee! I know her mother!”

                  “If you continue to display violence, Mr. Harkness, I will call security,” she told him, the corner of her lips curling in a visible smirk.

                  Jack growled as he raised his fist to his lips. He bit down on his finger and closed his eyes to count to ten. One... two.... TEN!

                  “Can you just call- 

                  Before he could finish his last pleading attempt, he was interrupted by a charming voice. “Good Morning, Captain Harkness.” For a moment, because his back was turned, he thought it was Ianto.  He even had to take a second glance, when he rounded on the suit-clad man holding a tray full of mugs. Alto reminded him so much of Ianto, that Jack found himself staring at the boy for a long moment in silence. Ianto was not the only submissive boy that preferred suits, and Alto wore one just as well as Jack’s boyfriend did.  His hair was long, but he kept it tied in a rubber band on the back of his neck. The longer hair accented his softer features of his, and even with a neatly trimmed beard, he looked very, very young.

                  “I trust that you and your party slept well?” Alto broke the silence between them. He stepped forward to the desk attendant so he could place one of the cups in front of her. “Are you bothering Ms. Applegate’s guest, Serena?”

                  The girl with auburn hair was finally speechless. She gulped as she wrapped her fingers around the cup. “You know that I am required to screen all of the Minister’s visitors.”

                  “Ahh,” Alto said sarcastically. “But had you checked your memo’s correctly, I’m sure that Director Jenson informed you that if Captain Jack Harkness presented himself that he was to be shown in immediately.”

                  Serena shifted nervously in her seat. “I had not checked my memo’s from Director Jensen yet,” she was speaking softly now. Her whole attitude had completely changed.  Where a challenging brat had just sat was now a sputtering submissive.

                  “He’ll be unhappy,” said Alto, who had also shifted his demeanor. Towering over her, he held a frown of displeasure on his lips. “As am I.”

                  “I apologize,” Serena said quickly, looking up at Alto with pleading eyes. Then she turned to Jack, offering a smile opposed to the previous smirk she had given him. “And to you, Captain Harkness.”

                  “We’ll discuss this later, Serena,” Alto told her, taking the tray before he turned and left. “I’ll take Mr. Harkness upstairs.”

                  Jack—still puzzled by the interaction between the two- had no choice but to follow the man who had been their submissive escort last night.  Luckily, Alto sensed his confusion and he chuckled as they got onto the lift.

                  “Serena belongs to Jensen,” he explained while he pressed the lift buttons. It explained why the collar around her neck had been familiar; it was almost identical to the one that he had seen on Alto. “And in a way, myself.”

                  “Sorry,” Jack apologized quickly. “I didn’t peg you as a Switch last night.”

                  He laughed again, his shoulders shaking and a big smile appearing on his face. “Jensen and I have been together a long time, there was never any question that I belong to him. Serena coming in was a surprise to all of us. Jensen was bisexual before I met him, but I had only been with women. When I met Serene he decided to take her on because I wanted to have sex with her. Topping her... that came a little later.”

                  Jack listened as he followed Alto down the hallway. Nothing really surprised him anymore about the fluidity of sexuality or the metamorphosis of D/s dynamics. After all his space travel, he had learned that human being should not be pinned down by definitions or roles. They will always evolve and change to fit the situation so that they could obtain maximum pleasure and happiness.

                  “Will I get to meet this Jensen?” Jack asked. Alto took him into to a large room with a table in the middle. Alto began to set cups down in front of empty chairs.

                  “You can sit there,” Alto nodded at a seat without a drink in front of it. “I apologize for not bringing you a drink, Mr. Harkness, I did not know that you would be joining us this morning. Would you like mine?”

                  That was the submissiveness that Jack had been familiar with from Alto. “No, thank you,” Jack offered him a smiled. “But I would like you to answer my question.”

                  “Yes, you will meet my Master.” Satisfied that Jack did not want his beverage, he took a sip. “You will meet several of the Minister’s committee members.”

                  “I’m going to a committee meeting?” Jack was shocked.

                  “I’m not sure who you are, Mr. Harkness,” Alto muttered, taking the empty seat opposite of the Captian. “But the Minister is very curious about you, and values your opinion.”

                  “I helped her mother, years ago,” Jack told him honestly. “I was displaced here by accident, I ended up staying. Amelia and I... we shared something very special. I also helped her with a civil war that had started between two undeveloped states.”

                  “You were the diplomat that solved the Shallot crisis?” Alto asked with disbelief.

                  “Yes,” Jack answered without skipping a breath. “It was not easy. I had to do a few things that neither Amelia and I were proud off, but it saved the death of a lot of people.”

                  “That was nearly sixty years ago,” Alto was still question the legitimacy of this story. “You don’t look sixty years old, Jack Harkness.”

                  Jack grinned at this. “I age well,” Jack joked. There was no way to explain to Alto how shortly after he was time traveling with a handsome doctor and his semi-sorda girlfriend accidently made him a fixed point in time in space. Yeah, that was something that you did not quite explain to people easily.

                  “Cornelia says that you are special,” Alto finally said, sighing. It was as if he had to put all of his doubt in the back of his mind, and accept Jack’s position. “The Applegates have been the best thing to happen to Masoc De Sade in centuries, Jensen and I trust her judgment in all things. Don’t be surprised if some of the other council members are not as friendly.”

                  “I appreciate it,” Jack was sincere about his reply. He knew how hard it was to win over politicians. “Alto, listen, this isn’t easy for me to be here or the rest of the people I am with. If I told you that we traveled through a rift in space and time to be here, would you believe me? And a space ship that time traveled got me here the first time?”

                  Alto blinked at him. “Yes.” There was no hesitation in his voice when he answered. Jack was surprised. Alto had not even looked at him as if he was insane, but had just accepted his word. He was just about to question the blind faith, when the door opened.

                  Alto rose instantly from his seat, the previous conversation immediately forgotten. Within seconds he was on his knees in front of the well-dressed man who had entered. Jack could only guess that this was Jensen by the way that Alto bowed his head in respect. Jack did a double take of the man who had just joined them, admiring his dark skin tone, thick-rimmed glasses, and masculine bone structure. He was older then Alto, his receding hair starting to grey a little around the ears and the base of the neck, but he had lost very little attractiveness in the years.

                  “Who is your friend, Alto?” Jenson spoke as he pulled Alto to his feet, kissing him briefly, before taking his seat at the table.

                  “Captain Jack Harkness,” Alto answered as he retook his seat. “The honored guest of the minister.”

                  “Ah,” Jensen reached across the chairs between them, extending his hand. “Nice to finally meet you, Mr. Harkness.”

                  “Pleasure,” Jack returned the handshake before settling back into his chair. “I’ve met both of yours, delightful submissives, very attractive.”

                  “Thank you, Mr. Harkness,” Jensen replied, a hint of pride in his voice. “Serena could use some work, but my boy and I just got her.”

                  “Oh, I found her charming,” Jack said sarcastically. Alto snorted into his drink. Jensen looked between the two of them with a puzzled expression.

                  Before either one of them had the time to explain, Cornelia Applegate and the rest of her committee filled the room. Cornelia walked over to Jack and planted a greeting kiss on his lips. “I’m so happy you could join us,” she said excitedly. “I told my mother you had returned, and it has been a long time since I have seen her so happy.”

                  “I would love to join you for dinner tonight,” Jack took her hand and kissed it affectingly.

                  “Please do,” Cornelia told him as she took her place at the head of the table. “And bring that charming boy in the suit please, he’s yours, right?”

                  “Ianto?” Jack choked out, surprised that she had noticed. “Yes he is mine, but I’m not sure that bringing him would be good for mine and Amelia’s reunion.”

                  Cornelia’s face softened into a warm smile. “Mother never took on another after Mena died,” she spoke only to Jack, knowing that no one around the table (save Jensen) would understand. “She would never fault you for moving on.”

                  Jack felt a pang in the gut of his stomach as she brought up Mena’s name. He had not been lying when he told Alto earlier that he and Ameila had shared something special. That something—someone—special had been Mina Ferris. The sweetest most beautiful women that Captain Jack Harkness had ever laid eyes on. One of them, at least. Mina and Jack had fallen into a bad romance as soon as Jack stepped foot onto Masoch De Sade. She had been his refugee contact, and to Jack’s disappointment collared by the Prime Minister.  It had been Mina that had gotten him wrapped up with the Prime Minister, and because Amelia loved Mina, she had been willing to share. Amelia shared more than just Mina with Jack, she had trusted him enough to share the problems that she faced as Prime Minister. Jack, who had become very fond of Amelia and Mina offered his advice and services as her leading diplomat.

                  “Captain Harkness?” Jensen was speaking to him, jerking him from his memories. “The Minister asked you a question.”

                  “I’m sorry,” Jack recovered quickly. “I was lost in a happy memory.”

                  Cornelia smiled at him softly. “What accommodations can I offer you and your party?”

                  “The housing is already appreciated,” Jack told her, leaning forward. “I will be honest. Some of the refugee’s in my party were not brought here willingly.” There was a collective gasp and whisper that spread around the table, the inhabitants about Masoch De Sade valued consent very highly. Only Cornelia, Jensen, and Alto seemed to not be phased. “Our ship was displaced, and our only choice was to land on Masoch De Sade or die in space.”

                  Cornelia listened intently, ignoring her chattering committee. She nodded towards Jack, encouraging him to continue. “The people that I am traveling with have all agreed to learn this lifestyle and attempt to practice it while here, but we would like permission to work with Starcroft Industries.”

                  The tabled chuckled at him.

                  “Jack,” Cornelia said sullenly. “The Starcroft research was disbanded after my mother left office… I had not reinstated it.”

                  “Maybe its time,” Jack announced bitterly. Amelia and he had pushed a lot of people to get the Starcroft research labs. Every planet had their anomalies. Aliens, paranormal, time travel… you name it and it was on Masoch De Sade. Starcraft had been the labs and team dedicated to maintaining and explaining these things. Amelia had been easily convinced when Jack had showed her his Chula spaceship. “And you just got an entire team of capable people.”

                  Cornelia turned her coffee cup in circles on the table, lost in thought.

                  “There are the untouched research funds in the budget,” Jensen reminded her. He slid his finger over the data pad in the direction of Cornelia, and the information showed on her screen. “Our Christmas bonus this year will be lacking, but it’s a small price to pay for science.”

                  Cornelia looked around the room, daring her committee to challenge her. They would not dare argue with a smaller bonus, because they were aware of Cornelia’s stance on pocketing unneeded money. She nodded her head. “Captain Harkness,” Cornelia finally said. “I will have the Starcroft Tower refurnished and accessible within the month. You will have all the accommodations and funds that you need. I will put you in contact with some of our top scientists to assist you in using the information we gathered previously and to help re-build Starcroft.” While it was true that Cornelia always had the final say, she looked around her table. “Are there any objections?”

                  “Mam?” A chubby brunette raised her hand and spoke in a squeaky voice. “We have not been specific about the research, and I’m unfamiliar with Starcroft. What specifically would we be funding?”

                  It was a fair question. After all, this was a huge chunk of money that was being handed over. Any normal person would want a more vivid picture.

                  “Have you ever experienced something weird?” Cornelia answered, leaning forward and pressing her palms on the table. “Something that you just could not explain? Like a shadow of a voice that you cannot quite make out? Like a strange creature that is here one second and gone the next.” She looked at Jack before she spoke again. “A individual out of the wrong place and the wrong time?”

                  Several of the committee members nodded their heads. The women who spoke looked pale. “Yes Minister, I have.” Jack could tell that the moment was personal by the way the women shifted in her seat uncomfortably.

                  “Starcroft had hired the best scientists, the best researchers, the best doctors, and the best field agents to find out exactly what causes these strange encounters,” Cornelia explained to her. “As far as I know, they had come very far. The people were very skeptical and the former Prime Minister shut them down after my Mother left office. He never investigated the research, and neither have I, but if anyone can get it back on track it will be Captain Harkness. If we can grasp the understanding of some of these things; time travel, connection with the paranormal… then we might be able harness the knowledge and use it for our benefit.”

                  Jensen needed little convincing, he tapped his finger on the table. “I agree.” Several other committee members also tapped their fingers. The women, who had posed the original question slowly reached forward to add her vote.

                  “It’s settled,” Cornelia stood up from the table. “Jack, may I see you and Jensen in my office.”

                  Jack left the table quickly, thankful to have gotten what he wanted and thankful to be leaving a very uncomfortable meeting where he had clearly not been wanted. Jensen followed the Captain and the Minster out, Alto moved with them a few paces behind. Cornelia seemed to have no issues with this, and said nothing about Alto joining them even though he had not been called. Together, the four of them walked down the hall and took a left into a large office. Cornelia took a seat behind a large glass desk. Jensen fell into one of the chairs, and Alto moved gracefully to his knees in front of him. Jack sat beside them, curious.

                  “There is a reason that Jensen is my top advisor,” Cornelia finally said, leaning forward. “I’m a submissive, you see. My position… well it would not be healthy for me to have a Dominant who might be able to manipulate my role. Not many people know that, and assume that I am a Top that is uncoupled. Jensen and I allow them to think that, but I trust Jensen’s word as much as my own, and he is the one that put this play into motion. The message he sent me in that meeting, gave his approval. I’m calling you both in here, because I want to know why. I have my theories, but I need them confirmed.” She leaned back into her chair and fixed all of them with a glare.

                  Jensen was calm and cool. He reached down to pet the top of Alto’s head as he smirked back at his Minister. “I’m curious about your theories, Cornelia.”

                  Jack guessed that Jensen was the only one of the council members that was allowed to call her Cornelia, because she did not bat an eyelash at the informal behavior.

                  “Garrick Jensen,” she pointed a finger at him. “You showed up here twenty-two years ago. You had no record, no identification. It was like you just fell out of the sky. Officers found you washed up on the beach. And you…” She moved the finger to point at Jack. “Showed up at the refugee office with no classification either. You charmed my Mother’s submissive into making up a fake identification for you. You both weaseled your way into the Prime Minister’s right hand, and I think that is a big coincidence! Are you working together?”

                  Jack and Jensen exchanged looks, before laughing at each other. “You’re name’s Garrick?”

                  “Yes, but no one has called me that in years,” Jensen was still chuckling. “Except for Cornelia.”

                  “This isn’t funny!” Cornelia said, slamming her fist down on the table. Jack saw the bottom side in her at that moment. She was frustrated that she did not have all the answers, and that the two men before her were laughing.

                  “Cornelia,” Jack said, leaning forward. “If you want the truth… you have to promise me that you will be open minded. Your mother was, and it worked out great for her.”

                  “I’m listening,” Cornelia glared at him.

                  “The first time I showed up here, I used a space ship that travels through time,” Jack explained and before any one else could say anything. “This time, we fell through a rift in time and space and it spit us out here.”

                  Cornelia just stared at him, her eyebrow twitching furiously. “You expect me to believe that?”

                  Jensed laughed again as he leaned forward. This chuckle was different; it was the nervous laughter that people make when they just can’t believe something. Jack could relate.

 

                  “You know, Cornelia, you had one thing right,” Jensen muttered, as Alto looked up at him as if he already knew what he was about to say. “We do have something in common… we both got her by time travel.”

                  “I feel like I got hit by a mac truck,” Tony muttered as he walked into the kitchen. Gibbs was drinking his coffee and watching over his flock. McGee and Jimmy were engrossed in some co-op game game on the data pads. Abby had found a coloring book in one of the bookcases and she was scribbling away with a grin. Only Ziva still looked unhappy. “Still not adjusting well, Ziva?” Tony mocked as he fell into an empty chair.

                  “Go eat some cheese, Tony,” Ziva shot back at him.

                  “Ziva,” Gibbs grunted. “You might think you’re a Top, but you still come second to me, and my belt works just as well on you as it will Tony.”

                  Ziva flipped around to look at Gibbs with a shocked expression. Gibbs just stared at her, ice blue eyes piercing menacingly. Ziva could only hope he was halfway joking, but in her experience Gibbs never joked.

                    “I’m going to go talk to Agent Coulson,” Jethro told them, throwing back the last of his coffee. He put his cup into the sink, along with a few other dishes. “Abby, dishes. Tony… eat some toast or something light, then take it easy. You still don’t look so hot. Ziva, don’t kill him and boys…” He turned to McGee and Jimmy who were still lost in their games. He could not hold back a smile. “Keep being good.”

                  He left them, hoping that they would all still be alive when he returned. No promises with his crew of misfits.

                  Meanwhile, Ianto slipped out of the sliding glass door. He sucked in a breath of fresh air, thankful to have a moment of quiet. There was only so much a person could take of Tosh squealing happily as she discovered something on the data pad, or Gwen crying because she would never see Rhys again. Owen had shut himself in his room a long time ago to avoid the girls, but Ianto had tried to stick it out. Two hours later, and he had decided to drop in on Agent Coulson.

                  Ianto was happy to see the redheaded Russian sitting at her kitchen table. He knocked on the glass and waved when Natasha turned to him. With a smile, she rose to let him in. “Good Morning Ianto,” she greeted as she slid open the door for him to enter. “Come on in.”

                  Ianto slid past her to sit at the kitchen table. “Where are Phil and Clint?”

                  “Upstairs,” Natasha answer as she went back to sitting in her chair. “Coulson wanted a quickie. They should be down soon.”

                  Ianto shifted uncomfortably at the thought of being so open about a sexual experience. Natasha grinned at him. “You’re a shy one, aren’t you Ianto Jones?”

                  “Shy is not the word,” said Ianto. “If you work at Torchwood, you cannot be shy. Jack just says I blush easily.”

                  “That I’ve noticed,” Phil surprised them both as he joined them. Clint was following, and Ianto felt his breath catch. Clint had that clear look of someone who had just been fucked, and fucked hard. He was walking slower then Coulson, cheeks flushed and eyes wet with old tears. Phil reached back to take his hand; Ianto admired the way that Coulson was being tender with him. Phil sat and pulled Clint into his lap.

                  “It is a very attractive attribute,” Natasha complimented, still smiling.

                  “Thank you,” Ianto forced out, knowing that he was rewarding them with the same blush they were praising.

                  “What brings you over here, Ianto?” Phil was petting Clint lovingly as he spoke to the Welsh man.

                  “Jack went to speak to the Minister,” Ianto forced himself to relax. He pulled at the sleeves of his suit nervously. “Tosh was busy with her data pad, and Gwen was bloody miserable.”

                  “I guess she has someone back in your life?” Phil inquired.

                  “She has a husband,” Ianto told them. “She is the only one with actual family… What about you?”

                  “We have a team,” Clint was the one to speak as he was sliding off Phil’s lap. He cringed a little, but then grinned before he started to pour them all cups of water. “They’re our family…”

                  “The three of us have been together the longest,” Natasha explained as she put her elbows on the table. “We were a family before we met our team.”

                  “Torchwood is my family,” Ianto admitted bitterly. Sure, he had his sister, but they were not close. At least they had not been in years. “Jack... he saved us all from different things. He’s really a good man.

                  “You love him.” Clint acknowledged as he distributed the glasses of water.

                  “Of course,” Ianto answered without hesitation. Phil and Natasha both smiled at Ianto’s obvious devotion to his leader.

                  “Look, there is Gibbs!” Ianto announced, trying to change the subject away from his love for Jack. Natasha let Jethro Gibbs into their kitchen. Clint responded immediately. “Can I get you something?”

                  “No, thank you Agent Barton,” Gibbs took the only empty seat at the table. “I’m here about a personal matter, I hope you don’t mind giving me some advice.”

                  Phil seemed to understand. “Of course,” Phil replied with a curt nod. “I’m assuming that this has something to do with the demo that we gave on Serenity.”

                  “That it does,” Jethro replied quickly before pausing. He was not the type of person to beat around the bush. The only reason that he was hesitating was because of the lack of knowledge to ask the question. Finally, not worrying if he sounded silly or not, he filled Phil in on the situation.

                  “Phil… I think that I might want to,” Gibbs stopped again and took a deep breath. “I think I want more with DiNozzo then for him to wear my collar of protection.”

                  “Mmm,” Phil acknowledge nodding again, he could honestly say that this news did not shock him.. “Stricter D/s? Sexual? Master and slave?” Phil really needed more information to offer any advice to his new friend.

                  Jethro ran his hand over his face and into his grey hair. “I’m not sure,” he admitted with a huge sigh. “Stricter, yeah. Master and slave, probably not. I’m not even sure I know what that means… but Tony doesn’t strike me as a slave boy.” The table laughed at the thought, even the corner of Gibbs’ mouth turned in a smirk at the outrageous idea. “Sexual? I’m not gay… I don’t think, but I can’t imagine sex not being part of the relationship that I want with him.”

                  “May I speak?” Ianto asked softly. He did not feel like Jethro had been asking for his advice, but this felt like a perfect time to chip in. Jethro would not turn down advice, especially since it was offered so politely. “I understand a small part of your dilemma, Sir.  I’m not gay either. I’m not even attracted to men. I had a girlfriend before this, but Jack…” Ianto shook his head as he spoke. “is just Jack. It may be the way for you and Tony.” Phil reached over to pat Ianto on the back, a comforting gesture, which was the least he could do, because Ianto was not his.

“Ianto has a point,” Clint spoke up; he was rubbing his finger on the edge of his water glass. “Phil was not exactly my dream relationship to begin with either.” He gave Phil a cocky half grin, which Phil answered with a devious smile.

                  “Sexuality is pretty fluid, if you ask me,” Phil put in; he was rubbing the back of Ianto’s neck now. Ianto was not his, but he was certain that Jack would not mind him giving the boy some comfort. “I guess you’re worried about proposing this idea and him freaking out.”

                  “Yeah that sounds about right,” Gibbs nervously ran his hand through his hair again.  The thought of Tony running out on him right now terrified him. It was his job to protect his team, and he had never failed. Pushing Tony to do something like this had the potential to backfire in a very bad way. “I don’t want to force anything on him, because I feel like he is already fighting the little that we have imposed. If I shift the dynamic so drastically he’s gonna buck and I won’t be able to stop him.”

                  “Maybe that is what he wants,” Clint quickly said still playing with the rim of his glass, he was not looking up to meet their eyes. “You know, sometimes I push Phil because I want him to push me back.”

                  “It’s true,” this from Natasha, who had been mostly silent. “Clint has always been snarky, but when he gets in those moods, he is almost unbearable.”

                  “Sounds like my brat on a good day,” Gibbs said with a hearty laugh. “How do you deal with it?”

                  “I let Clint get it out of his system,” Phil says with a shrug of his shoulders. “I put up with it for a while, sometimes several hours, sometimes several days… depends on what is going on and how badly Clint needs it. Eventually, I answer.”

                  “And it ain’t pretty,” Clint mutters and Phil laughs at his reaction.

                  “If you don’t want it, boy, don’t ask for it so blatantly,” Phil scolded, but somewhat playfully.  “I make him go back to the basics. He doesn’t eat, sleep, piss, or hardly breathe without my permission. He does not leave mine or Tasha’s sight, I fuck him for my pleasure and he gets none. I bathe him, I feed him, I hold his cock when he goes to the bathroom. Nothing is off limits to me. At night he sleeps on a pallet at the foot of my bed, with a plug up his ass which is remains red until I decide otherwise.”

                  Ianto was shifting in his seat. Clint still had not looked up. Jethro was listening to Phil with wide blue eyes. He was trying to figure out how much of that he could and would be able to do with Tony. Gibbs like the idea of controlling Tony’s every behavior. He liked thinking about DiNozzo depending on him for all of his basic needs, but how far was too far in this newly forming relationship.

                  “That is a lot to do,” Phil went on, noting the hesitation in Jethro’s face. “You can start with something basic, a no-nonsense spanking. And you can go from there, add slowly, but with force. He knows his safeword. We went over that very specifically, and you can remind him before you begin.”

                  Jethro nodded. That seemed like a healthy way to start things off. Phil made a good point, begin slow and give Tony a chance to back out if he needed too.  He had never spanked anyone before, but it did not seem like a complicated procedure. In fact, the more Gibbs thought about it the more it seemed like the right way to handle Tony.

                  “I think when Jack returns we need to work out actual collars for our submissives,” Jethro said as she stood up from the table. “I’m about to take steps that will probably mean a little bit more the a collar of protection.”

                  “You’re right Jethro,” Phil agreed with him. “I’m not sure what Mal will say, but I don’t think Jack will have a problem with putting collars on his team.”

                  “I would not mind taking it,” Ianto said out loud. He chuckled nervously as soon as he realized that his thought had actually left his lips. “You know… “

                  They all laughed happily at his innocent sincerity. “Of course you would Ianto,” Phil was stroking the back of his head again. Clint shot him a jealous look before Natasha kicked him with her boot.

                  “He just fucked you, and you share his bed,” Natasha scolded, digging her heal into the side of Clint’s thigh without mercy. “Don’t look at him as if he doesn’t touch you.”

                  “I’m sorry,” Ianto pulled away quickly.

                  “No, Ianto,” Phil pulled him back for a hug. “Clint is just horny by the speech I gave Jethro. He is angry that I’m not going to fuck him again today, he isn’t the jealous type.”

                  Clint, who was rubbing his leg where Tasha’s boot had been, looked at Ianto apologetically. “Yeah, Phil’s right… sorry man.”

                  “I’m going to go deal with MY wayward brat,” Jethro Gibbs was at the door. “Do you mind if I send Abby and Jimmy over here to visit. I think the change in my attitude might spook them.”

                  “We’ll take care of them,” Phil promised him. “I am going to check on Mal and his crew soon. Kaylee and Abby will enjoy seeing each other.”

                  Gibbs was rubbing his wrinkled brow nervously. “I’m going to have to do something about Palmer too,” he said outloud. “He’s not asking for anything like Tony, but he will need me eventually.”

                  “We’ll cross that bridge when it comes Jethro,” Phil told him. He had also risen from his chair and was placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Right now, take care of Tony. I can handle those two. They won’t be a problem.”

                  “If they are, you have my permission to do what you need to do,” Jethro informed him before sliding open the door to head in the direction of his own condo.

                 

                  “Abby, Jimmy,” Gibbs did not bother with a greeting as he slid back into the kitchen. “Go hang out with Phil for a while” He gave them little time to reply, before turning to Ziva. “You and McGee make yourself scarce, you can go visit too, but it’s going to be me and Tony for a few hours, okay?”

                  No one wanted to argue with Jethro when he barked an order. Each one of them slinked out of the kitchen without a word. Abby planted a kiss on the Tony’s cheek, who was shaking with nervous anticipation. As she walked by Gibbs, he grabbed her hand and pulled her towards him. Gibbs placed a kiss on the top of her black hair as he did on numerous occasions before. There were no words spoken between then, but Abby knew by that kiss and that touch that Tony would be just fine. That this whole situation would be just fine.

                  “Be good,” Gibbs instructed as Abby left. It left him and Tony in the kitchen alone. Gibbs had never seen Tony scared before, but he was almost certain there was fear written on the face of his agent right now.

                  That could not be further from the truth. Tony was about to piss his pants scared. He tried to recall the many times that he had been left alone with Gibbs, but they were all evading his memory enough to find comfort. Gibbs would never hurt him, he assured himself. What was he saying? Gibbs hit him at least once a day, sometimes twice. Having to face the displeasure of Jehtro Gibbs was not a strange scenario for him, but this was different. Gibbs was different. He was different. This planet had changed them. They would be a lot more smacking, and Tony knew it would not be on the back of his head.

                  “Hi…boss.” Tony managed to choke out.

                  “Cut the crap Tony,” Gibbs said quickly, stepping forward with his arms crossed over his chest. “You know what is about to happen?”

                  Tony wanted to talk, but he voice was caught in his throat. He managed to nod.

                  “Speak up, boy!”

                  Tony flinched at Jethro’s bark. One thousand times before he had hear that voice and this was the one time that made him jump to attention. “Yes Sir.”

                  “Do you want a different safeword, or is red good?” Gibbs was rolling up his sleeves as he began closing the space between them.

                  “Red works, sir.” His voice was still barely audible, but Gibbs heard and he was satisfied.

                  “Listen closely,” Gibbs said in a deadly tone. He was inches away from Tony’s face. “You have three minutes to do exactly as I say, you with me DiNozzo?”

                  Anthony nodded again, this time completely unable to answer verbally. Gibbs seemed just fine with that, and he reached up to cup Tony’s chin in his hand, forcing the younger man to look him in the eye. “Go into my bedroom, take your pants off, fold them neatly, put some pillows on the edge of the bed, and bend over. I’ll be up soon to take care of business.”

                  Jethro let him go, giving him a gentle push towards the door. Tony hesitated, biting down on his lip hard.

                  “Questions DiNozzo?” Jethro inquired when he saw the hesitation in his footsteps.

                  “Pants, sir. Briefs too?”

                  Jethro smirked, maybe under that bratty attitude there was a man in there that wanted to please. Stepping forward, Jethro pulled Tony’s body too him by the loop of his belt. Tony’s back was pressed against his front, and Jethro was able to put his lips close to Tony’s ear. “I’ll let you decide if they come off now or later, but they are coming off before we are done.” He felt Tony tense and heard the gulp in his throat. “Remember, boy, you don’t have anything that I haven’t seen before.”

                  Tony’s chin wobbled in acknowledgement before he stepped away from Jethro. He could barely lift his shaking knees to climb the steps. He managed, one step at a time, halting midway up to consider this. He could run back down, throw himself at Gibbs’ feet and beg for mercy. He knew that Gibbs would not give in. He could run downstairs and tell Gibbs red and it would be over. It also might ruin the possibility building a future relationship with Gibbs. Tony was in turmoil with himself. He did not feel like a submissive, he did not feel like he should break to anyone’s will or rules, but the thought of displeasing Gibbs broke his heart. How could there be such a dynamic shift between them in a few days? This relationship had not existed a week ago, and he and Gibbs were strictly professional. Just because the relationship was presented to them, did that mean that needed to take it? Tony was not sure, and he could not answer the questions in his mind. Even though he was nervous, something in his gut made him keep climbing the stairs. That same feeling made it possible to raise shaking fingers and strip himself bare from the waste down. Once his clothes were folded, he placed pillows on the bed. Tony stared at them for a long minute; those pillows were a change in his life. If he bent over them now, he was saying yes to Gibbs. He knew that. Gibbs knew that. It was unspoken negotiation. Closing his eyes, he forced his body onto the pillows. Now, he just had to wait, and waiting while your mind was racing was never a good thing.

                  He did not have to wait long; Gibbs joined him soon after he had put his face on the soft bedspread. “Good boy.” Two small words were all that Tony needed to relax. Gibbs had praised him for being obedient and for making the right choice. Inwardly, Tony’s stomach flipped and his face beamed. Those words were all he needed to know that this was right.

                  “You stay there,” Gibbs instructed him. “I’m going to talk and you’re going to listen. Then my belt is gonna talk and your ass is gonna listen. You got that, DiNozzo?”

                  “Yes Sir.” Tony forced out, squirming from his presented position.

                  Jethro admired Tony’s body for a moment. Gay? Naw, Jethro was a lover of women. He had three wives and plenty of lovers, but he could not deny the fact that Tony was attractive. Hell, his whole team was attractive. Sexually, though? Gibbs had never considered the possibility, not until this moment. Gibbs knew that if he was going to take the first step into the rabbit hole he was going fall tumbling down. He did not want to put Tony in a position like that, the boy needed the option to choose, and Gibbs needed to know this was going to be mutual or he would never forgive himself. Hell, he wasn’t sure if he would ever forgive himself period.

                  “We’ve got a long road ahead of us,” Jethro began. He paced back and forth out of Tony’s line of sight. “I offered you a collar of protection.” He paused a long second before taking a deep breath. “But I’m taking that offer back.”

                  “What!? Boss?!” Tony jumped up with no concern for hiding the part of him that had made him nervous earlier. He whirled around Gibbs with an accusing glare. “You put me through all of this to tell me that you’re taking my collar back? You sadistic son of a bitch! Would you make up your god damned mind?!” Tony had never yelled at Gibbs before, in fact, he hated the idea of yelling at Jethro Gibbs. It seemed like a reversal of roles that never should have been done.

                  Gibbs just stared at him, letting the boy get it out of his system, and that seemed to make Tony even angrier. How could Jethro stand there and be so calm when he was son mad? Fuck him! Fuck them all! He reached for his pants, Gibbs smacked his hand away. Tony looked at him in surprise, but quickly went back to a furious glare.

                  “Don’t touch me,” he huffed before attempting a final grab at his clothes. Gibbs was on him in a second. If Tony had any training to resist capture, he forgot it all in that moment. Before he could recall any defensive tactics, Gibbs had grabbed his hand, twisted it to the small of the back, and bodily pushed him back down over the pillows.

                  “You’re hot tempered,” Gibbs growled into Tony’s hair. When Tony tried to push himself off the bed, Gibbs noticed how weak of an attempt it was, and applied more pressure.  “You’re a brat, and you’re almost intolerable to be with.”

                  Tony grunted a little, refusing to show weakness, even though Gibbs was sure that the angle of his elbow was causing him some bit of pain. “Yeah, and saying those things are going to make this all better. You’re saying you can’t be my Dominant because I’m a fuck up. I warned you about that in the beginning. You insisted, and then you make me strip my clothes off and take that collar back. You’re insane! I don’t even know you!”

                  Gibbs shook him for good measure, finally making him cry out from the pressure in his arm. “I wasn’t saying that I couldn’t be your Dominant, Tony,” Gibbs shouted at him. “I was taking back your collar of protection to offer you a real collar. MY collar! I want you to be mine, you dumb brat!”

                  Anthony’s body immediately relaxed under Jethro’s, Jethro removed pressure from the man’s arm in response. Tony was speechless for a few seconds, before choking out. “You-you…what?”

                  “I want you to belong to me,” Jethro said again. This time he let Tony go completely as he got up off the bed. Tony stayed in position over the pillows, trying to regain some type of composure. “Like Agent Barton belongs to Phil.”

                  “But Boss…” Jethro could not see Tony’s face, but he was sure he heard a sniffle. “I’m not..” He did not have to say the word gay, Jethro knew what he was refereeing too.

                  “Me neither, Tony,” Gibbs interjected. “I’m not sure that this is even about being gay or straight. There is a level of this that I want to explore with you that is sexual and you aren’t that bad looking Tony. So maybe it is a gay or straight thing, I’m not sure. I don’t think we should go putting labels on anything.”

                  Tony nodded in understanding, even though he had to calm his tummy from turning circles at the thought that Gibbs found him attractive. “I wanna say yes Boss,” Tony finally spoke; he had reached up to play with the bed spread nervously. “But what if… well… we try it and things fall apart?”

                  Jethro heard the vulnerability in that question, and even though he could not see it, he was sure that Tony was crying. Gibbs forced himself to be tender, kneeling beside the boy, he reached up to rub his back. “Then we go back to protection, no hard feelings.” He gave Tony a moment to consider it, and he heard him sob softly even though he was still trying to hide it. “Phil and Clint will help us and Jack and Ianto too.”

                  “What if we get to go back to Earth?” Tony finally turned to look at him. Gibb’s suspicions were confirmed, Tony’s cheeks were wet with tears. “Do things go back to the way they were.”

                  “Your call DiNozzo,” Gibbs told him honestly. This was an emotionally vulnerable situation for both of them, but Gibbs knew that it was part of his role to be the stronger one, and it Tony wanted to walk away in the end—it would break his heart—but he had to let him do it.

                  “Are you gonna sleep with me Boss?” Tony asked quickly, taking Gibbs by surprise. “You said that you wanted to explore sexual things… was that one of them?”

                  “I-“ Gibbs had thought about saying that he had not thought about it, but it would not help either one of them to be anything but honest right now. “Yes. I had planned on it.”

                  Gibbs expected Tony to scream red. To get up, put his clothes on, and run away at the thought of being fucked by his boss. To his surprise Tony just nodded and muttered a request. “Can you go easy the first time, please. I know gentleness isn’t your style, but I’m scared… and I want to do this right, for you, you know?”

                  Jethro felt pride washing over his body. Tony was already his. He was so willing to give up things that terrified him to make Gibbs happy. He trusted Gibbs to take care of him. Abby had been right, these relationships had begun long before they had arrived on this strange planet. Gibbs bent over to kiss Tony’s hair, and offered him a solution. “After you spanking, how I about take you in the shower? Nice and slow and loving.  This is my first time... “ Gibbs cleared his throat. “..having sex with a guy. I think it might be important to make this good for both of us.”

                  Tony, surprisingly, liked the sound of that. Except for the spanking part, but he tried to focus on shower sex with Gibbs. He also thought about after the first time, Gibbs not being gentle and taking what belonged to him. Tony shivered. “Okay boss.” He was smiling a Gibbs as he reached up to dry his tears away. Gibbs offered him a smile back.

                  “About that spanking,” Gibbs reminded him and Tony groaned.

                  “That part I wasn’t excited about,” he said wrinkling his face.

                  “I know,” Gibbs was standing up again, and he began to remove his belt. “I think it’s important that if we’re going to start this type of relationship, you start it off by knowing your place.”

                  Tony squeaked as he heard the belt slide from the loops. “Um… can I safe word and not stop, but negotiate something?”

                  Gibbs considered this for a moment. He had not talked to Phil about the possibility, and Tony had a fair point. The two did not have a lot of communication about physical punishment before hand, so Tony’s needs could be valid. “Yes, was that a safeword, Anthony?”

                  “Yeah, Boss. Red… but only for a minute.”

                  Gibbs grunted and tossed the belt on the bed. “Say what you have to say.”

                  “Can we…um…” Tony was looking at the leather strip that was a few inches from his face. “Reserve the belt for when I do things wrong. I mean… Clint said that he had different rituals and things for punishment spanking, maybe the belt could be one of ours.”

                  “Who said this wasn’t a punishment spanking?” Gibbs questions firmly. “You’ve been testing me all week.”

                  Tony gulped loudly. “I know.. but I meant when I’m really really bad.”

                  Jethro laughed in his head. He always found it amusing that when faced with a spanking that Tony took on such a boyish attitude. He had seen the same behavior between Clint and Coulson, but had paid little attention to it until now.

                  “You don’t trust me to use my belt in the manner fitting the situation?” Gibbs asked him, he was taking the time to admire Tony’s thrust out ass. The image of fucking it after it was red and well spanked aroused him. “My belt might sting, but I think I know how to handle it and you enough to be able to separate the strokes from punishment to fun.”

                  “This is going to be fun?” Tony asked sarcastically.

                  “For me ,” Gibbs answered back, landing a smack onto the white skin for the sass. A pink handprint glowed on the skin where his hand had struck, and Tony looked back at him with a glare.

                  “Say what you need to say, Tony,” Gibbs instructed him firmly. He rested a hand on the unspanked cheek in case Tony wanted to get snippy again. “Tell me that you’re afraid of the belt. I saw it in your eyes when I took it off that day on Serenity, and just now when I tossed it close to your face. Who beat you with a belt when you were a kid?”

                  “It doesn’t matter,” Tony said quickly, holding back tears again. “I just was, and it scares me. They used to hit me over and over and over, not aiming or caring. I know you won’t do that, but…”

                  “The belt’s out for now,” Jethro told him quickly without needing further explanation. He buried the feeling of wanting to kill the person that had hurt Tony like that, now was not the time.  It also was not the time to offer therapy to Tony while he was in such a vunerable state. “ I’m sorry that happened to you Tony. If you want to end this spanking say your safeword again, if not… I will start with my hand and then I will find something else to get my point across.”

                  Tony did not say his safeword, and Gibbs was confident that Tony did not want to end this spanking, that he had just been preventing himself from having a traumatic flashback. Jethro would offer him a reward later for being honest.

                  “Let me put this away,” he said as his hand closed around the belt and he removed it from Tony’s sight. “You get yourself together while I go find something else to use, okay?”

                  Tony felt a surge of love for Jethro Gibbs. He was not the most tender of people, but in his own way that had been sensitive. Tony was thankful for Gibbs’ understanding. That was one part of their relationship where Gibbs had never stumbled.

                  “I’m not sure you’ll like what I brought back, Tony,” Gibbs announced as he sauntered back in. Tony looked around frantically to see what Gibbs had chosen, but he saw nothing. “Before I begin I need to know if you have any other triggers I might need to know about.”

                  “No boss,” Tony answered, still nervous with anticipation. “I’ll safeword if you do something that scares me.”

                  “Smart boy,” Jethro said again, knowing that Tony needed to hear it in this moment of fear. He wasted no time in beginning the spanking. The older man positioned himself behind Tony, resting one hand on the small of his back and the other on Tony’s soft, creamy backside. He thought about telling Tony to relax, but knew that it would be null and void once the spanking began. He waited for Tony to take a deep breath before he raised his hand in the air and brought it down with a crisp snap.

                  Tony gasped, not expecting such a statement to be made from the first spank. He had known that Jethro would be a no nonsense spanker, but he had not expected such a stinging smack from the get go. Phil had been pretty insistent on “warming up” if this was a warm up, Tony hated to think about what was serious. Surprisingly, he managed the pain very well. He let out the breath that he had taken and imagined all the tension leaving his body. Some therapist had told him to do that once, he was never sure that it worked, but hell, now was a good as time as any to try that bullshit.

                  The second spank was milder, and Tony groaned. Not because it hurt, but it put in perspective how much Jethro lacked rhyme and reason to his spanking. He spanked like he did everything else, like he damn well pleased.  Jethro would not stop till he was satisfied with the color in Tony’s ass, and then the real spanking would begin. Over and over, Jethro continued reddening Tony’s buttcheeks. There really was no method to spanking—it was not rocket science—he applied the flat of his hand repeatedly to the backside until achieving the desired effect. The problem was not his lack of knowledge; the problem was knowing what the desired effect was. Tony had made a valid point earlier, this was not about punishment, and Gibbs had no reason to make Tony feel punished. He did, however, want to push him over the edge. Gibbs wanted to see Tony cry, not because he was remorseful, but because he was surrendering. Jethro knew that his hand would not push him over, but it would bring him to the cliff. So Jethro continued without mercy, ignoring Tony’s whimpers and kicks.

                  _Fuck!Fuck!Fuck!_ Tony was screaming inside his head. Jethro’s hand was heavy, and Tony tried to rationalize an explanation in his head. Gibbs was part alien. Cyborg maybe? Anything to distract his mind from the spanking that was taking place.

                  “OW SHIT!” Tony howled being snapped from his distraction as Gibbs aimed some low swats on his untouched thighs. “Ow! That hurts!”

                  Gibbs smirked. “Is there another point to a spanking DiNozzo?”

                  Out sassed. Tony fell silent other then his cries as Jethro peppered the tops of his thighs evenly. “DiNozzo,” Jethro lectured, but he had returned to spanking the pink skin of Tony’s globes. “I’ve interrogated people as a career. You think you can check out, and I won’t notice. No distraction. Here with me. Every time I loose you, I’m going to spank your thighs, got it?”

                  Tony was gasping to regain some kind of pain management from the assault on his very tender thighs, but he was able to force out. “Yes Sir.”

                  Jethro grunted in approval and he focused on the spanking again. He noticed that Tony was kicking a little less each time, that his breaths were hitching in his throat, beads of sweat were trickling down the back of his neck, and his knuckles were white from gripping the bedding. The whole of his ass was a uniform red, Jethro could feel the heat rising from the skin each time his hand slapped and made the cheeks jiggle. His thighs were a slightly lighter pink, only having to smack them once to regain his attention. Jethro was satisfied with the job that his hand had done, and there was a brief pause in the spanking.

                  “Tony,” Jethro instructed as he pulled the wooden spoon he had found in the kitchen from the seat of his pants. “Remember your safeword, and remember you can tell me if this is to much or a trigger. Also, I want you to cry out. Stop trying to be silent.” Gibbs raised the spoon midway between his full swinging distance and it’s target.

                  SWACK!

                  Tony could not have stopped himself from yelling if he wanted too. The pain traveled through his body like he had been shot, and he screamed despite his best efforts to take this spanking like a man. Gibbs struck him again and he was over come with the same reaction. This time he bucked his legs out, rocking forward a little, hoping that movement would help disperse some of the pain.

                  That was the spirit that Gibbs desired to break in DiNozzo. He had spent so much time building strong and confident agents, that they lacked emotions. That was fine in their previous work place, but here they were entering new roles and emotional vulnerability was part of the game. He needed to set the bar high in the beginning. It was okay for Tony to be emotional, and Gibbs would be there to make it better.

                  Gibbs smacked the spoon down two more times, noting the reaction from Tony. It was the same, more howling and kicking. Gibbs new it was time to up into high gear. He took a deep breath before he began to spank Tony without mercy, ignoring his kicking and screams. He listened for a safe word, but it never came, and until it did or until Tony gave Gibbs the reaction he wanted he would continue. The spoon left circular welts where the edges struck, and soon his bottom was a painting of red spots that were fire engine red. Tony still had not given in yet, and Gibbs knew his arm could last longer the Tony’s pride. He started spanking in places that he had already spanked, the edges started to purple instantly.

                  A few minutes of this and Tony physically broke. He lay limp over the pillows, pulling at the bedsheet for comfort. It took him another few minutes to break emotionally, and a floodgate of tears started.

                  “Good boy,” Jethro praised, but he did not stop spanking. Even though that was the reaction he wanted, it was important to teach Tony that tears would not be the only reason he stopped. Gibbs gave a few more swats for good measure before he tossed the spoon aside. Sitting down beside Tony, it took very little prodding to pull Tony into his lap, the boy practically jumped into the open embrace. Gibbs let him cry it out, rubbing his back, and petting his hair.

                  Tony sobbed for what seemed like hours. Gibbs had pushed him to a point in his life he had never been. The pain had been bad, but it was the emotional crisis that had been the defeating attribute. He hated to cry—they all did—and Tony felt weak because of it. Crying had never been against Gibb’s rules, but they were all reserved about it. He could not believe that Gibbs had wanted him to cry. Trusting Gibbs to get him to that had been difficult and his mind was aching as much as his backside.

                  “Boss,” Tony muttered finally catching his breath a little. He still sniffled and stuttered, but Gibbs found that adorable. “Now you make it better.”

                  Gibbs smiled, brushing his hand through Tony’s hair. “Yeah… let’s go get that shower. You up for moving?”

                  “I think so,” muttered the senior field agent as he slowly rose from the bed. Gibbs reached up to steady him. His legs felt like jelly and he wobbled to a somewhat standing position, using Gibbs as a crutch.

                  “You sure, Tony?” Gibbs inquired as he held the younger man up. “We can take a few more minutes.”

                  “Can you just hug me?” Tony suddenly blurted out. Jethro was surprised, but not opposed to the idea. Hugging had not been a normal part of their professional career, but Tony had just taken a spanking from him—and a damn hard one—so giving him a hug felt like the right thing to do. Jethro’s arms jerked him to his body, holding him tightly to his chest. Tony instinctively laid his head on Gibbs shoulder, and Gibbs could feel the boy’s warm breath on his neck

                  “You did good, Tony,” Gibbs said in comfort. He had snaked his hand up Tony’s shirt to touch skin and began rubbing circles on his lower back. “I’m proud of you.” It could not be further from the truth.

                  Tony almost sobbed again at his words. He did something he had never done before; he wrapped his arms around Gibbs and held on tightly. He never wanted this moment to end. Tony wanted to stay safe in the arms of Jethro Gibbs till the day he died. The thought was so new and overwhelming that it terrified him, but Tony had never felt so safe in his whole life. Gripping onto Gibbs’ shirt he sucked in air.

                  “Say it again,” Tony begged, his breath hot on Gibbs neck. “Please.”

                  A grin spread across the lips of Jethro Gibbs when he heard and felt Tony change the tone. “I’m proud of you, boy,” Gibbs hissed seductively. He pulled Tony out of the hug, his hand stroking Tony’s the tear stained cheek. Jethro Gibbs then did something he never had dreamed he would ever do, he leaned in and kissed Tony. To his surprise, Tony kissed him back. He was lost in the moment then, pressing firmly into Tony’s soft lips with a rough kiss. Dropping his arms down, he gripped Tony by the elbows to keep him locked in a moment of passion.

                  When they finally released one another, they lips hovered centimeters apart for each other till Tony spoke. “Well, I wasn’t… “ He was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling dramatically. “…expecting that..”

                  “Yeah.” It was simple declaration, and Gibbs was staring into the younger mans eyes with adoration.

                  Before either one of them knew it, Tony’s fingers were pulling Gibbs’ shirt tails from his pants when he went in for another kiss.

                  Gibbs laughed seductively when he pushed Tony’s hands away. “I said I would make love to you,” Jethro objected and he began to unbutton Tony’s collar. “I did not say that I would let you be in control.”

                  Tony laughed at him. “Of course you wouldn’t,” Tony was talking in between kissing the former Marine. “That would be to easy.”

                  Gibbs, still grinning, pushed the boy towards the bathroom. “When are you going to learn to stop pushing your luck?”

                  Tony paused in the doorway, he wiggled his hips playfully his well spanked jiggling seductively, before he mused out loud. “If I did, what fun would that be for you?”

                  Gibbs growled in Tony’s direction before he stalked after the younger man, ripping off his shirt in the process. By the time he joined Tony in the bathroom, he was stripping the slacks off his hips. Tony was bent over turning on the shower and Gibbs pressed his erection into the crease of Tony’s ass. “You wiggle that ass again boy, and I won’t be able to go gentle.” Tony skin was warm against his throbbing cock, and Gibbs felt them clench in anticipation of being entered.

                  Tony moaned, his hands slipping down to support himself on the edge of the tub. “Keep talking dirty, and I may not want to go slow.” Tony mewled, his hips thrusting backwards to put pressure against Jehtro’s crotch.

                  Gibbs grunted, but he stopped himself. He gave Tony a smack on the well-toned cheeks for good measure. “Get in the shower.” He watched Tony’s sweat glistening body disappear behind the curtain, and his cock twitched onto his stomach with urgent expectancy. He turned to the sink counter to rummage through the draws and cabinets. These condo’s were built for kinky people, there had to be lube somewhere.

                  A long, desperate moan escaped Tony’s mouth, but he was out view. “Better not be touching yourself,” Gibbs managed to scold, though the thought overwhelmed him with desire. “That’s my job.”

                  “Then hurry up, boss!” Tony barked in pure desperation.

                  Bingo. Jethro’s fingers gripped the bottle of lube and he pictured the same fingers grabbing the base of Tony’s cock. An excitable shiver passed down his spine and into his groin at the premonition. “Not your place to be giving the orders,” Jethro was muttering as he climbed into the jets of warm water behind Tony. Tony was making no effort to show his own arousal, his swollen cock was presented to Gibbs as soon he entered.

                  Gibbs set the bottle of lube onto one of the shelves. He could not keep his hand off Tony’s body anymore. Pulling Tony securely to him into another passionate kiss, he let his fingers run up and down the soaked skin of Tony DiNozzo.  He worked his hands on Tony’s body like he owned it, like every inch was for him to possess, and Tony let him do it without protest. Starting at his shoulders, Gibbs made lines all the way down to Tony’s hipbones where he paused to put pressure, Tony moaned behind their kiss.

                  “Boss,” Tony pulled back and whispered. “Can I do something?”

                  “What do you want Tony?” Gibbs was feeling generous.

                  Tony surprised him by dropping to his knees, his face meeting with Gibbs throbbing dick. Gibbs looked down at Tony, their crystal blue eyes meeting in mutual understanding of what Tony was asking. Gibbs wanted to tell him no, that would be too much for their first time, but he was overcome by the begging in Tony’s face. Gibbs stared at the boy on his knees. The jets of water and the shadow of the curtain darkened Tony’s light hair, and it was sticking messily to his forehead. Water dripped down his cheeks and off his chin as he continues to beg with his eyes up to Gibbs.

                  “Tony,” Gibbs cupped his check in his hand. “You don’t have too, if you don’t want too.”

                  “I want to try, boss,” Tony reassured him honestly, his head nodding frantically in agreement. “Please… can you teach me?”

                  The innocent of that statement made Jethro weak at his knees. How could he deny teaching his boy how to do anything? Patting Tony’s cheek gently, he snaked the hand around to the back of Tony’s neck, gripping the wet hair. “Eventually, I want you to learn how to use your mouth only,” Gibbs instructed giving the hair a little affectionate tug. “This time you can use your hands, take my cock.”

                  Tony did as he was instructed, and as soon as Jethro felt Tony’s digits close around his dick he felt electricity shoot through his body. His free hand had to reach up to steady himself on the wall of the shower. “Hold the base,” Jethro moaned out, still not loosing eye contact with Tony. “Then take the head into your mouth.”

                  Tony nodded and he broke eye contact to look at the cock he was about to take into his mouth. Jethro could not hold back a groan as he felt Tony’s lips slide over the head of his penis. In all the years of blowjobs, he had never felt a mouth like Tony’s. The lips were firmer, tighter. It made him want to slam his clock down Tony’s throat, but he shut his eyes and resisted.

                  “Use your tongue,” Jethro told him, and almost instantly regretted it when he felt Tony’s tongue flicking wildly on the head of his cock. He bawled his fist, which he promptly slammed onto the wall. Tony jumped and the cock fell from his mouth.

                  “Did I do something wrong?” Tony gasped nervously, looking up in sheer panic.

                  Gibbs stroked the back of his neck. “No,” he managed to choke out. “It felt good. Do you want to keep going?”

                  Tony smiled at the fact that he had done something good. He nodded before he resumed his duties, letting his tongue do most of the teasing work. Gibbs curled his toes and threw back his head. Teasing was one thing, he liked it, but he wanted more from this boy’s hungry little mouth. “Good boy Tony,” he praised, his eyes rolling back. “Now take it into your mouth as far as you can. A little bit of a time, stroke your hand on the base until you can take it all the way, alright?”

                  With the cock head still in Tony’s mouth he nodded, and Gibbs felt his dick starting to slide further into the mouth of Tony Dinozzo. Then back out again. Tony found a rhythm, taking Gibbs a little big deeper each time, his hand pumping in sync with swallowing. Finally, he took the tip into the back of his throat. It surprised him, and he pulled away choking. “S-s-s…sorry, boss.”

                  Gibbs pulled him back to the cock roughly, but patted the back of his neck. “That’s okay. You were doing well. Keep going.” Tony did not need to be told twice, and he swallowed Gibbs’s member again. Gibbs felt the back of Tony’s throat contracting around the head of his cock, his eyes rolled back into his head. Just when Tony was about to gag, he took a deep breath through his nose and pulled back a little, just enough to regain composure, before he swallowed again. Gibbs had to hand it to the boy, he learned quickly, and he was eager to please.

                  Within in a minute, Gibbs was thrusting himself into Tony’s throat without realizing. He made sure to watch Tony’s face and eyes, for any sign of panic or distress. They would widen when Jethro rammed the entire length of his cock into Tony’s mouth, but would relax again when he took a deep breath through his nostrils.

                  “Fuck DiNozzo!” Jethro yelled before pulling away from Tony rapidly.

                  “Was it bad, boss?” Tony asked skeptically, still on his knees.

                  “That’s the problem, it was great,” Jehtro panted, his forehead pressed against the cool of the bathroom wall. “I was going to cum. And I want to cum when I’m fucking you Tony.”

                  “Oh.” Tony muttered, rising from his knees to stand next to his newfound lover. “Will you teach me how to do that too?”

                  “Yeah…” Jethro responded breathlessly. “I have never fucked a man before, so I’m learning too, but you trust me right?”

                  “Of course I do, boss,” Tony had put his head on Gibb’s shoulder, and was letting the streams of water pour over both of them, in a moment of pure romantic bliss.

                  Gibbs nodded before reaching to take the lube. “I’m going to stretch you first,” he explained as he flipped the top open. The lube was cold and sticky on his fingers, he rubbed them together out from under the shower jets. “Turn around, brace yourself against the wall.” Tony obeyed, placing his arms up the wall, his face up against the tile, and his ass out. Gibbs dipped his hand between Tony’s cheeks in search of Tony’s most private hole. He found it, and he felt it twitch against his fingers.

                  “Relax Tony,” Gibbs prodded gently, but he knew that was easier said then done. Tony closed his eyes before sucking in a profound breath. Gibbs was massaging the lube into the taut rosebud, teasing the hole with the tip of his finger. Slowly, gently he pushed one finger in. Tony whimpered at the invasion, his cock jerking uncontrollably. It was not painful, but it was slightly uncomfortable and intruding.

                  To reassure Tony, Jethro kissed his neck and nibbled at his collarbone, whispering praises in his ear. “You’re doing good, boy.” He pulled his finger out gradually, but only to pump it back in a little harder and a little faster a second time. Tony’s toes curled as he dispelled an unnerving wheeze. Jethro hummed his approval again to comfort Tony. Tony soon relaxed and Gibbs was able to work his finger back and forth with very little resistant.

                  “Second finger, Tony,” Jehtro warned him, as his middle finger bared down on Tony’s loosening ring. Tony acknowledges him with a nod, biting on his lip in preparation. Before Gibb’s introduced the second digit, he looked around to make sure that Tony was still enjoying himself. He was pleased to see that the younger man’s cock was still rigid and hard. Gibbs kissed Tony’s neck another time in advance of lodging his second finger in Tony’s asshole. When Tony sucked in a breath, Gibbs bit down on his collarbone to distract him. Tony moaned and melted to a puddle of butter against.

                  Gibbs worked Tony’s asshole with his fingers compassionately till they glided in and out with easy. Then he surprised Tony by adding a third finger. Gibbs’ cock was rather larger, and no amount of preparation would really prepare Tony for taking his cock, but he had to try. This time Tony made an audible sound and not a gasp.

                  “You doing okay?” Jethro asked as he let the anus close around the three fingers before he started pumping them in and out. “You can use your safeword now too, if you need too.”

                  “No Boss,” Tony said into the wall. “It’s just a different feeling.”

                  Jethro could only imagine. Having a man’s fingers in your ass was not anything he had ever experience, and he never planned on having the experience either. Jethro was sure that was how Tony felt before tonight too, and look where they were now. Tony pushed up against the wall, dripping with sweat and shower water, and Gibbs’ fingers knuckle deep into the man’s anus. To top it all off, they were both hard and wanting.

                  “Jethro, please…” The both seemed shocked that Tony had used his first name. It was always Boss or Gibbs or Sir. Never Jethro. Had this been any other moment, Jethro would have thrown a fit, but he found it intimate and enduring.

                  “What do you want Anthony?” Gibbs murmured into the back of Tony’s neck.

                  “Please… just do it,” he begged as he leaned his hand back into Jethro’s kiss. “Take me. Fuck me.”

                  Jethro thought he might explode before he could even get his dick into Tony.  He had never pictured Tony begging him to fuck him before, but it made him hot. The pressure in his groin grew. Withdrawing his fingers, he gave the spanked backside a pat. Gibbs slathered his stiff cock with lube before he tucked it between Tony’s cheeks and up against the hole, which was loser but still tight. Gibbs used one hand to position himself and the other to brace for balance on Tony’s shoulder.

                  “Here we go, Tony,” Jethro announced the head of his cock pressing firmly into Tony’s asshole. “Deep breath.” And with that, he slipped is head in gently. Tony cried out again as his hands shot skyward to grip onto something that did not exist. His hole burned as it stretched around Gibbs’ dick, he felt like he was being split in too. Tony was squirming, crying, and kicking at the wall for that long minute that it took for his anus to relax. When it did, Tony laid up against the wall gasping for air.

                  “Good boy,” Gibbs uttered another round of compliments before he pushed another inch in. Tony handled this better, and within second Gibbs had been able to push two more inches in. Tony shook his head vigorously. “Break. Break. Break. Let it relax.”

                  “I’ll do you one better,” Jethro pulled out, and Tony sighed in relief. He tensed again when he felt the cock touching his pinched hole again. “Shh. It’s easier the second time.” Of course, Jehtro did not know that for sure, but it seemed like that was logical. He waited till tony was nodding again in permission, and he pushed back in. Tony didn’t howl, but made a sound that Jethro interoperated as a mix of pain and pleasure. Good enough sign, Jehtro pushed a little further. Another moan. Another inch. Before either of them knew it, Tony hand taken the length and width of Jethro’s cock, and Gibbs let himself rest there long enough for Tony to accommodate the feeling.

                  “I’m going to go slowly,” Gibbs told him as he gently pulled himself half way out and back in. “Until you tell me otherwise.” That is exactly what he did, driving his dick in and out slowly. Tony’s sounds of pain turned to pure ones of pleasure, and every couple of thrusts he pushed his ass back to take Gibbs deeper. Tony would nod when he was ready to go harder or faster, and Gibbs would oblige by pulling more of his cock out each time and thrusting harder.

                  Jethro gradually up the tempo and rhythm, till he was grunting when his hips slammed into Tony’s spanked ass. The continued in that manner until Gibbs felt his cock twitch in warning. He slowed back down to a slow, methodical fucking. Tony had been good, better then Jethro had expected, and he deserved a reward. Reaching around, Gibbs took the base of Tony’s cock into his hand. He stroked Tony with the same cadence of his thrusts. Slow and gently at first, taking his hand all the way to the head, and feeling drops of pre-cum leak onto his fingers. He could feel Tony breath hard and heaving, his own heart was rushing. Gibbs could not keep this up much longer. Thrusting hard again, he jerked Tony’s off as Gibbs cock—deep in Tony’s—ass rubbed up against the boy’s prostate.

                  “I’m coming,” Jethro announced as she felt the tension in his cock. “Come with me boy.”

                  Tony nodded in agreement. With another thrust, Gibbs felt the spasm of his cock in Tony’s ass, as he shot his hot jet of cum into Tony for the first time. Gibbs was silent when he got off, only a tiny groan in the back of his throat was his tell-tale sign. Tony on the other hand was very vocal as he spilled his junk all over the older mans hand. Most of it dribbled down the wall and into the drain with the water. Gibbs liked the feeling of holding Tony’s cock when it jerked and twitched as he came. There was power in feeling your boy jerk off into your palm, knowing that you were in control of that moment. That you had provided it for him.    

                  Jethro placed his forhead on Tony’s back, both of them breathing heavily as they held onto one another. Gibbs had one more thing to do, and he assumed that it would be a little unpleasant for both him and Tony. It would be painful for the boy, and only disappointing for Gibbs because he had to pull out of Tony’s ass. Slowly, he slipped his cock from the boy. Tony moaned slightly, but was still flying from his orgasms.

                  “Got words, Tony?” Jethro asked as her placed his arms around Tony’s chest and pulled his back into him.

                  “Yeah Boss,” Tony managed to mutter. “One word…”

                  “And what would that be?” Gibbs lips were on his the back of his neck again, pushing small kisses of comfort into the wet skin.

                  “Damn.”                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             

                  Gibbs chuckled before he reached for the shower knob. “My thoughts exactly, boy.” 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Be prepared for tooth-rotting fluff.  
> 2\. That being said. Age play is not pedophila or incest or any of that stuff people want to throw on it. It's two consenting adults participating in Parent/child role. If this is not your cup of tea, then skip parts of this chapter.  
> 3.Thanks for all the people that have spent time letting me bounce ideas off of them. marlislash, val, everyone that has sent comments for feedback. To my Lizzy especially, thanks for being you.  
> 4\. This chapter took me a while to write, and it also took me longer to edit because... well... looking at the screen was making me cross eyed. Sorry for errors that I missed. I promise it looks worse before I edit it.  
> 5\. Usual warnings.BDSM/Kink/AgePlay... all types of alternative sex lifestyles are based on hours and hours of communication and consent. Do not try this at home just for funsies. Do you research, talk to your partner. Sure it’s fun to read about and fap too, but some of the stuff is not only physically dangerous, but can emotionally manipulate a person to an unhealthy level.  
> 6\. Oh... there is Simon angst in this chapter. Be warned.

            “Honey! We’re home!” Clint called as the gang clambered into Mal’s condo. Phil and Natasha walked—hand in hand—in the door after him. Jimmy and Abby followed a few steps behind them. Ianto came too, removing his hands from the pockets of his suit—bringing up the rear—he closed the door after all of them

            “Weren’t expecting to you today!” Mal greeted from his spot on the couch. He had joined Jayne in the shooting video game, and at the moment, he was winning.

            “We just came to see if you were settling in,” Phil called out as he followed the sound of the Mal’s voice. Clint had already bodily tossed himself into one of the chairs and snatched up a controller to join in.

            “Blast!” Jayne shouted, waving his controller angrily. “Mal’s damn good at this game.”

            “Told you that I was always a better shot then you,” Mal retorted with a smirk.

            “You boys haven’t seen great shot yet,” Clint informed them as he added his virtual player into the game. Coulson chuckled inwardly; they had no idea how badly they were about to be beaten. Clint was the best shot he had ever met, even in video games.

            “Where is Kaylee?” Abby asked as she looked around.

            “She ain’t came out of the bathroom all morning,” Jayne answered without looking away from the screen. “Mal goes to check on her and she keeps saying that she’s taking a bubble bath.”

            “Ya best try and go get her out of there, Abby,” Mal instructed as the game resumed. “She’ll wrinkle up to nothing.”

            “You know, Abby,” Natasha suggested as the men got wrapped up in their game. “This would not be a bad time to explore the age play dynamics… You, Kaylee, Jimmy, Ianto… you’re all here. I’m sure we can find coloring books or things.”

            Abby’s face beamed with excitement.  “That’s a great idea, I’ll go get Kaylee.” Abby rushed up the stairs before anyone could tell her otherwise.

            “What about you Jimmy?” Natasha turned to him. He was sitting on the couch beside Clint, his hands twisting nervously.

            “I don’t know,” he answers honestly, glancing at the TV. “I don’t think it’s my style.”

            “That’s fair,” Natasha answered, she patted his shoulder. “If you want to join, you can.”

            “I’ll just watch the game, thanks.” Jimmy shifted in his seat.

            “Ianto,” Natasha switched her gaze to the suited main. “You coming.”

            “I…”  Ianto hesitated, but ended up nodding.

            “Are we really gonna color?” Kaylee squealed as she flew down the stairs with Abby on her heals. Kaylee was wrapped in a pink, fluffy bathrobe with oversized duck slippers. She fit the profile of a young girl perfectly.

            “Yup,” Natasha answered. She was already looking through the bookshelves for coloring books. She found one, with some interesting characters that she had never seen before. Obviously characters of this planets fan base, but it would work. She also found a notebook with blank pages in case the kids wanted to draw their own creations. There were no crayons or markers, but she did manage to find a box of colored pencils.

            “I’m going to color a fox!” Abby announced as she sat down at the kitchen table, patiently awaiting Natasha to distribute the art supplies.

            “I ain’t seen a fox before,” Kaylee thought out loud. She was sitting on her knees in the chair, leaning over the table with excitement. “We had a heard of cows once, I could draw a cow. They were kinda cute, I bet baby cows are real cute.”

            “Yup they are.” Abby answered her, snatching up the pencils as they fell onto the table.

            “Abby, you need to share,” Tasha reminded her gently. “There are only a few of them, and everyone needs a turn.”

            “Right,” Abby acknowledge, and she began to hand the pencils out evenly. “Four each!”

            “But what if Ianto wants to use the green one?” Tasha suggested, noting that Abby had given Ianto the very dull colors and herself and Kaylee the vibrant ones.

            “No, its fine. I’ll be okay.” Ianto said quickly.

            “Ianto, come here.” Phil called out to the Welsh man. Coulson was lounging on the couch, one hand on Clint’s knee as the archer proceeded to kick the others ass on the shooter game. When Ianto came to him, Phil pulled the boy between his legs.

            “Do you want me to help you get into the mindset?” Phil asked him, looking up at Ianto. His face was flushed in that very attractive blush that they had all become so fond off.

            “But Jack?”

            “I’ll deal with Jack,” Phil told him quickly, knowing that Jack would have little issue with what Phil was about to do.

            Ianto submitted with a nod, and Phil stood up from the couch to lead Ianto off by the shoulders.

            “Great,” Clint muttered in annoyance, shooting Jayne’s character with a headshot. “He can’t get his Daddy kink off with me, so he gets another boy.”

            Phil whirled around on Clint so quickly it made Ianto jump. Barton gulped, knowing that he had pushed Coulson to far. The whole room fell silent, knowing that Clint had just said something serious. The game continued to make sounds in the background, but no one was playing. “Just because you and I don’t share this doesn’t mean that I will take another,” Phil growled in a tone that made them all shift uncomfortably. “You know better. Get your ass back to our condo, I don’t want to see you right now.”

            Clint looked like a kicked puppy, but only for a minute, his pout turned to a mutinous frown. He tossed his controller aside dramatically before he left the scene of his infraction. Just before he stepped out of the sliding glass door, Phil called out to him.

            “If you know what’s good for you, you know how I better find you when I come to deal with you.”

            Clint slammed the glass door shut before he stalked off in the direction of their condo.

            Nobody spoke. No one really knew what to say. For many of them, it had been the first interaction with D/s since the demonstration on Serenity.

            Abby was the first to break the uncomfortable silence; she was not going to let this ruin her little girl time with Kaylee and Ianto. “I bet Clint gets a spanking,” she said innocently, her hand beginning to draw again. “That was very naughty.”

            “Mr. Phil is scary,” Kaylee whispered, but she began to color too. Mal and Jayne exchanged a look with each other, before they resumed their game, minus the very talented archer. Jimmy was picking at pillowcase of one of the throw pillows.

            “I’m sorry Phil,” Ianto was muttering quietly. He pulled his arm away from Phil. “I did not mean to make Clint angry…”

            Phil’s face softened as he pulled Ianto back, giving him a little shake. “That is not your fault,” Phil told him sternly. “I told you already that Clint was in a bad mood. I offered to help you, and I’m going to help you. You understand?”

            Ianto could not argue with Phil’s tone. His teeth clamped down on his bottom lip, but he accepted Phil’s offer.

            “Good,” Phil reached up to pet the boy with soft affection. Then his hands started to unlatch the button of Ianto’s pristine suit. “Little boys don’t wear suit’s do they?”

            “What’s wrong with my suit?” Ianto asked looking down at the jacket. It was wrinkled more then normal. He had not found an iron yet, but he steam pressed it with the shower steam this morning.

            “Nothing,” Phil said quickly in a reassuring voice. “But they’re not for little boys, they’re for big boys.”

            “But I-

            “You’re a little boy right now, Ianto,” Phil reminded him firmly. The SHIELD agent reached up to slip the jacket off Ianto’s shoulders. “It’s okay to be relaxed.”

            “Yes..um…” Ianto hesitated at what to call Phil. He looked up at Phil with a hint of confusion in his glossy eyes.

            “How about Mr. Phil?” Phil suggested. That had been what Kaylee had called him, and he was actually quite fond of it.

            “Mr. Phil,” Ianto said quickly as he watched Phil toss his jacket on the back of the couch. “Can you fold my jacket neatly, I don’t want wrinkles.”

            Phil smiled. Ianto was so prim and proper. He was predictable. Phil found it one of Ianto’s less adorable qualities, but still enduring. “I’ll take care of you clothes in a minute, Ianto,” Phil insisted as he cupped Ianto’s chin to turn his face away from the haunting jacket. “Right now I’m taking care of you.”

            Ianto forced himself not to look at the jacket that he just knew was getting an unattractive crease in it. He was distracted by Phil reaching up to loosen his tie.

            “What do you think, Ianto?” He asked as his fingers began to unlace the knot. “Do little boys wear ties too?”

            “Sometimes.” Ianto said almost frantically, the thought of being without his tie in a room full of people surprisingly bothered him. “Like to church…”

            Phil managed to pull the tie off Ianto’s neck and put it on top of the jacket. “That’s a good point, buddy,” Phil agreed with a nod, but he turned to the girls who were still coloring. “Girls are you pretending to play church?”

            “No!” Abby said with a clear ‘ick’ face. “Church is boring.”

            “Yeah, I ain’t gone to church in my whole life,” Kaylee mimicked the disgusted face, but she was more interested in her drawing.

            “See,” Phil mused beaming at Ianto. “You don’t need church clothes, and you certainly don’t need work clothes, because little boys don’t work. They play with their friends.”

            Ianto still looked panic stricken at slipping into this role entirely. He glanced around the room nervously, but no one was watching him. Mal and Jayne were still engrossed in their game, Jimmy was snoozing on the couch, and the girls were coloring happily. After Clint’s display this was not big news.

            “Do you need to safeword, Ianto?” Phil asked seriously, reminding Ianto that he could always quit on his own command.

            Ianto shook his head again. He forced his body to relax. This would have been easier with Jack, but Jack wasn’t here. “Do you think I can draw a pretty picture for my Daddy, Mr. Phil?”

            Phil could not hold back a smile when Ianto finally gave in. He cupped the boys face lovingly, pressed a kiss on his forhead. “I bet you can. I’m sure the girls would love to have you.”

            “Yup!” Abby and Kaylee answered instinctively, though they were paying very little attention to Ianto’s moment of transition.

            “Let’s get you more comfortable, okay?” Phil announced as he began to pull the button up shirt from his trousers. Ianto did not fight or fuss, he just shifted his body so that Phil could untuck him. Phil had to admit that Ianto looked adorable with his shirttail hanging out. “Why don’t you take your shoes and belt off, and go join the girls at the table.”

            Ianto happily obliged. He fell to the floor and began to untie his shoes. Phil chortled when Ianto placed them side-by-side underneath the hanging jacket. Still precise, even as a little boy. Taking off his belt, he handed it to Phil, who tucked it away with the suit and tie.

            Ianto needed no further prodding, he slipped slowly over to the table where Tasha sat with Abby and Kaylee.

            “Can I use the blue pencil?” He asked shyly.

            “Here,” Kaylee slid it across the table to him. “You can sit by me if you want.”

            Ianto smiled before sitting in the empty seat beside Kaylee. He pulled one of the blank pieces of paper towards him.

            “What are you going to draw, Ianto,” Abby asked as she scribbled furiously on her piece of paper.

            “My Daddy.” Ianto said quickly, as if everyone should have known exactly what he was going to draw. “In a spaceship.”

            Phil and Tasha exchanged pleased looks. These roles were unfamiliar to them, but they came so naturally. It was true, Clint was very much a boyish brat, but they had never had him slip into little space before. Phil had not pushed the issue, he was almost certain that Clint had major Daddy issues that prevented him from visiting this world with himself and Tasha. Coulson loved his partner and respected his boundaries. No matter, how easily being the nurturing dominant came to him.

            “Daddy! Jayne!”

            “Yeah Grease Monkey?” Mal called back almost instantly, pausing the game.

            “I drew Serenity!” Kaylee held up her paper to show them the childish drawing of their Firefly. “Ain’t she pretty.”

            “Looks just like her,” Mal answered with a grin. Jayne looked at him with a puzzled expression.

            “Ya think I can go wake up Momma and Uncle Wash?” Kaylee asked, batting her big eyelashes.

            “Don’t reckon that would be very smart, bit,” Jayne spoke, and it left Mal surprised this time. “Yer Momma ain’t the kind that wants to be woken up, and she might shoot ya.”

            “Momma would never shoot me,” Kaylee said knowingly, turning back to her paper.

            “Don’t count on that,” Mal muttered under his breath. Of course Zoe would never shoot Kaylee, but Kaylee needed a reason not to go bother the lovebirds right? Shooting seemed like a good enough deterrent.

            “What about you Abby,” Tasha asked. Her voice was soft and maternal. “What are you drawing?”

            “A vampire fox!” She told them as she snatched up a brown colored pencil.

            “Mr. Phil?” Ianto asked, not looking up from his artwork. “Are vampires real?”

            Phil thought about how to answer that. There was a lot of weird shit in this world. Aliens, planets that practiced BDSM everyday, supernatural. It was impossible to rule out vampires—or something like them—entirely.

            “Could be, kiddo,” Phil informed him gently. “But they aren’t going to get you.”

            “How do you know?” Kaylee asked with a whimper attached.

            “Because Kaylee,” Tasha said, touching her hand. “Your Daddy, Your Momma, Jayne, Me, Mr. Phil, Jetho, Jack… we aren’t going to let anything hurt you. Ever.”

            Mal smiled at her words. It was a comfort to hear that other people were looking out for his crew. It also meant that he had a new responsibility too, these others like—Abby, Jimmy, Ianto—would need his protection too. They weren’t a crew anymore. They were a family.

            “I have great news!” Jack interrupted the moment of bliss by barging in the back door.

“Hi Daddy!”

He stopped at the kitchen table when he saw Ianto sitting there, his suit out of sorts, and his fingers gliding across a paper with a colored pencil in them.

            “Did I miss something?” Jack inquired with a raised eyebrow.

            “They’re just having a little moment,” Phil informed him, winking at Jack. Jack shrugged. He did not care what Ianto was doing, as long as his partner was happy. He greeted Ianto with a kiss on the top of his head. “Phil, Tasha… care to join me in the living room with Mal. Where is Jethro? He’ll need to hear this too.”

            “He’s taking some time with Tony,” Phil answered as they proceeded to the living room. “We can update him later.”

            “Fair enough,” Jack muttered as he left the kitchen.

            “Be good,” Tasha said, before getting up. “The grown ups will be in here talking. Call out if you need anything.”

            Three small voice replied. “K!” “Okay!” “Yes mam.” The   last from the sweet, good Ianto. Tasha left them with a smile.

            “Better be good, Harkness,” Mal fumed. He was not happy about pausing his game for Jack.

            “The best news I could have gotten,” Jack said as he sat down where Clint had been earlier. Jimmy was still snoozing, and did not move when Jack joined him on the couch. “Possibility we can go home. And we all have jobs, so we don’t have to sit around and do nothing.”

            He explained the Starcroft situation to them. Phil and Mal both seemed to accept it, they were more concerned about the getting home part.

            “You remember that kid, Alto,” Jack reminded them. “His Top, Jensen, was dropped here by a time rift too, some twenty years ago.”  

            “I ain’t trying to be a smart ass here… wait… yeah I am, but how the hell does that help us?” Jayne demanded glaring at the Captain Jack, who had rested his hand in his suspenders.

            “With Starcroft we can investigate time travel, we might be able to figure out how to harness the energy from the rift into your spacecraft, and make it capable of traveling through space and time,” Jack told them excitedly. There was no way that that any of them could understand how important that was to getting them back.

            “So,” Phil said sullenly. “That is our only lead?”

            “At the time,” Jack retorted, knowing that it was not the best option, but it was still an option.

            “I guess we do what we gotta do what we gotta do,” Mal spoke up and shocked them all by being the first one to agree.

            Phil and Jack both stared at him, trying to decipher how serous Mal was.

            “Stop looking at me like I’m the wrench in this paln,” Mal glared back at them. “I ain’t been to cooperative, I know. I wanna get out of this freaky place, and if this is the only way to get my crew outta here, I’m gonna follow along.”

            “Are you saying you are going to play nice?” Phil inquired skeptically.

            “Yeah,” Mal answered, though he sounded somewhat reserved. “I’ll play the game, Zoe and I will keep the crew in line. I’m not sure how kinky I’ll get with them.”

            “You seemed to do fine with Kaylee a few minutes ago,” Phil reminded him, hoping to convince him to of his potential.

            “Yeah, but that is Kaylee, it ain’t hard to have that with her,” Mal answered dismissively. “She is easy, so is River. Simon… I don’t know what to do about that kid.”

            “What’s wrong with Simon?” Natasha prodded, her beautiful eyebrows raised.                    

            “Not a damn clue,” Mal shrugged his shoulders. “He ain’t left his room all day.”

            “You think he’s sick?” Jack asked, leaning forward with a hint of interest.

            “Simon ain’t sick,” Kaylee said from the table. They had been listening with little concern for most of the “adult conversation.” This, however, little Kaylee had an answer too.

            “Whatcha you talking about, bit?” Jayne called out to her.

            “Simon, ain’t sick.” She repeated. She pointed at something that Ianto had drawn before whispering something only Abby and Ianto could hear.

            “Grease Monkey,” Mal said firmly. “Why don’t you come here and talk to Daddy?”

            Phil beamed with pleasure at Mal’s acceptance of his role. He knew that no one was entirely happy about choosing a different life, but he was also confident that this all had the potential to work out well.

            Kaylee slid off her chair, informing her friends that she would be right back. Slowly, she shuffled her way into the living amongst the other adults. Her hands were jammed in the pockets of her robe, and she kicked the floor with her slippers. She hesitated, only inches from Mal’s grasp. Phil gave her a gentle push, so that Mal could pull her between his knees.

            “Tell me what ya know bout, Simon,” Mal said flatly, looking up at Kaylee, who looked more childish then ever.

            “Well,” Kaylee said in a sing-song voice, twisting playfully. “I think its something about the collar.”

            None of them seemed to be surprised by Kaylee’s analysis.  Everyone was uptight about their new relationships, but how much was Simon struggling was the real question.

            “Go on, mei mei,” Mal prodded taking her hands into his to settle her bouncing.

            “I don’t think he wants to be protected by you,” Kaylee said rapidly. “It ain’t what he wants.”

            There was a collective pause so that Mal could look at Phil and Jack for guidance. Neither of them had real words of encouragement. It was bound to happen to one of them sooner or later. One of their submissives would not be a correct fit. Fate never worked out that way.

            “So he locked himself in his room, cause he don’t wanna deal with me?” Mal asked. Little did he know, he was asking Kaylee the wrong questions, and she was giving him very vague answers. After all, she was in the mindset of a child in this moment.

            “Yeah, he don’t wanna deal with his feelings,” Kaylee told him as she pulled her hands away. “Can I go back to drawing now?”

            Mal nodded gruffly before he patted her backside off in the direction of the kitchen table.  She scampered off, but not before taking Natasha’s hand and pulling her away. With a chuckle, the redheaded women conceded and returned to visit with the kids.

            “So why didn’t he just tell me?” Mal asked out loud.

            “Maybe he did not know how?” Jack suggested.

            “Maybe he was afraid?” Phil also added.

            “Yeah,” Mal whispered to himself. Simon and he weren’t the best of friends. He disagreed with Simon a lot more then he had anyone else on his crew. Maybe, they weren’t cut out for this. He did care about Simon and his kid sister, he had too. Once you were part of his crew, you were always part of it, but maybe asking Simon to do this thing with him was too much.

            “So what do I do?” Mal inquired. He had put his face in his hands in defeat. He hated giving up on anything, let alone one of his own, but if Simon wanted out. He’d let him.

            Jack and Phil met glances for a second, as if they were sharing a secret. There was no secret; they were trying to figure out which one of them would take on protection for the young doctor.  On a good day, it would have been easy. Phil would have spoken up in a heartbeat. He had the smallest team and the most experience, but with Clint acting out… he hesitated at the thought. The both nodded at the same time, knowing what they must do.

            “Hey, Ianto,” Jack called to the table behind his back. “Come here a second, would you?”     

            Ianto wasted no time appearing at Jack’s side. Jack was automatically tender with him, pulling the boy into his lap, and holding him close.

            “I need you to answer something right quick,” Jack told him, holding his face so that he could look into his eyes as he spoke. “I need you to be big for a moment, okay?” 

            Ianto nodded slowly. He closed his eyes and rested his cheek into Jack’s hand. “Can I still call you Daddy?”

            “You can call me that anytime,” Jack told him with a huge grin. “Because that’s who I am.”

            “Okay…” Ianto took another few second to inahle the sensations of Jack’s touch, before he nodded a final time. “What do you need to say?”

            “Would it bother you if Daddy took on someone else?” Jack forgot about the other people in the room. He was speaking directly to his lover, his partner, his little boy. “One half of a collar of protection? Phil will have the other half.”

            Ianto seemed to be in a moment of puzzled thought. “You won’t…” He hesitated. “… you know?” He had dealt with Jack’s very flamboyant sexuality since becoming a member of his team0. He had never felt truly committed to his partner until now, and he did not want to loose that. He did not want to concede the sexual part of their relationship.

            “No, baby,” Jack was pressing a kiss on his forehead. “That’s just for you right now.”

            Ianto seemed content enough. He was used to sharing Jack. As long as he wasn’t sharing his sexual partner, and Jack was paying attention to him. Everything was fair game. “Okay.”

            Jack patted his cheek with a smile of praise, before he stood the boy in front of him. He turned him around to check out the hanging shirttail with a chuckle. “This is a new look for my little boy.”

            “Mr. Phil said that little boys don’t wear suits,” Ianto told him in a matter of fact tone.

            “Well your Uncle Phil is right,” Jack made contact with Phil, who was grinning. “Go back to the table. Daddy will come get you in a minute and we’ll go home.”

            Ianto bent down and kissed Jack on the cheek before he happily skipped off. It was such a delightful change in the Welsh man’s demeanor that it left them all smiling.

            “I ain’t never gonna get used to that,” Jayne finally said, shaking his head. “It’s hard enough to hear Kaylee call Mal Daddy.”

            “You’ll adjust Jayne,” Phil told him as he stood up. He patted the man on the back assuringly. “If Mal can change… so can you.”

            “Wouldn’t be to sure about that,” Mal muttered with a chuckle. Jayne glared at him.

            “I need to go deal with Clint. Do you mind if I leave Abby and Jimmy here with Tasha? You can send Simon over to my place with her later,” Phil had rounded the couch to check on Palmer, who was still snoozing. He pulled a throw blanket off the back of chair before tucking it the sleeping man. Then he pulled the glasses off the boys face and placed them on a nearby table. “I told Gibbs that I would watch them, but I need to handle this, besides I don’t think Abby wants to leave Kaylee right now.”

            “Yeah that’s fine,” Mal was reaching for the game controller again. He tossed the one Clint had been using to Jack. “Tasha seems to have them under control.”

            “She’s quite capable,” Phil assured them before he left out the same door that his boy had slammed just a few minutes earlier.

            “I’ll go talk to Simon after I kick your ass,” Mal announced as he started up another game.

            “Bring it.”

 

            Phil was not surprised to see evidence that Clint had not gone straight to the bedroom to wait for him in submission. There was a bag of chips lying on the counter, and half drunk glass of juice. These signs were subtle to anyone but Phil, who picked up on the clues within a second. If it was a challenge the boy wanted, it was a challenge he would get, and Phil would come out on top.

            Instead of going upstairs, he turned right back around and out the glass door, but not before grabbing one of the envelopes contain the key cars to the vacant lots. He crossed the patio, and entered easily. Phil had an advantage that Clint did not know about. He had seen the floor plans for all of the condo’s, since Alto had been kind enough to trust him with the information. In Condo #6 there was a basement, much similar to the on in Mal’s house, only smaller and not used for bedrooms.

            Alto had said that the Prime Minister held parties here, and there was no confusing Phil as to what type of parties those were. He suspicions were confirmed when he saw the basement of Condo Number Six labeled Dungeon.

            He descended into the basement, hoping that he could find what he wanted. The motion sensor light detected his moment as soon as he stepped off the bottom stair, and Phil glanced around in approval. There were several spanking benches, a couple of Saint Andrew’s Crosses on the walls, and other stations that could easily be used for different aspects of kinky play were located around the room. Phil hummed to himself, knowing that the next step was to get the rest of them down here to see this. Right now, he needed to focus on Clint, and he couldn’t quite pick up a spanking bench and carry it back to his condo.

            His eyes befell what he was looking for, a door with the appropriate sign _Toy Room. Please use responsibly_. Pushing the door open, Phil’s eyes lit up when he saw everything that he wanted. It was almost as if he had entered a kinky department store with rows of implements, bondage items, sex toys, and specialty items ready to be purchased and used.

            Phil could use all of these things at some point or another (and he relished in the fact that he could) but he only needed a few certain items to get his point across to his boy. A few of the smaller things, he tucked into the pocket of his suit. The others he carried in his hand, tossing a pair of floggers over his shoulder… they falls were light leather and they were the perfect weight to cause pain or pleasure, depending on how Phil decided to swing. A couple of other implements and some meaner looking toys later, and he felt set.

            “Look! Mr. Phil!” Kaylee exclaimed pointing out the window as he re-crossed the patio, heading back to his house.

            Abby’s eyes widened when he got a glimpse of the things that he was carrying. She tugged on Tasha’s arm nervously. “Where did he get those?”

            Tasha was also watching them, knowing exactly what Phil was about to do with each one of the things that he was carrying. “I don’t know Abby,” Tasha Romanoff answered, sighing from the corner of her mouth. She felt a little sorry for Clint, but only a little. That boy deserved everything he had coming to him.

            “I told you that Mr. Phil was a scary man!” Kaylee repate for the second time that day, as she watched Phil Coulson slip into the back door of the condo that he and his agents had inhabited.

            “But he wasn’t very nice, Kaylee,” Abby reminded her. She was very carefully tearing out one of the coloring pages. “And he hurt Ianto’s feelings.”

            “No he didn’t,” Ianto retorted, quick to stand up for himself. “Uncle Phil said that he in a bad mood. He was a little bit mean, but I forgive him.”

            “You’re such a good boy,” Jack praised as he joined them. “Ianto, we need to go, okay?”

            Ianto did not object or complain. He simply put down his colored pencil, and handing Jack the drawing her had been working on. It, in fact, was a very good drawing of Jack in a spaceship. Jack hummed in pride; the boy even drew him wearing his coat.

            “I’ll be right back, Daddy,” Ianto said softly. “I gotta put shoes on.”

            “Leave your jacket off,” called after him. “You’re getting right into the shower when we get home. We have to go dinner soon.”

            Ianto returned carrying his jacket. Jack smiled at how boyish that Ianto looked. Phil had ruffled his hair enough so it was not pristine, but slightly untidy. The shirttail hung down to mid thigh, and he had obviously just slipped on his dress shoes without tying them.

            “See ya later, kid,” Mal waved goodbye as he rose from the couch. “Thanks for what you did today, Jack.” It was the first time that Captain Mal Reynolds had been sincere with Jack.

            “No problem,” Jack wrapped his arm around Ianto’s neck lovingly. “I promise you that Phil and I will take care of Simon.”

            “I know ya will.” As much as Jack rubbed him the wrong way, he knew that he was a good man. Simon would be well taken care off.

            “I’m going to go down and deal with my boy now,” Mal muttered, his voice almost sounding disappointed. Simon wasn’t his boy anymore. He had never been really. “You okay with the girls, Romanoff? I think Palmer ain’t wakin’ up anytime soon.”

            “I’m good,” Natasha answered. She had joined the little’s in their coloring activity. “Avoiding our place right now seems like a good idea.”

            Jack and Mal nodded their heads in agreement, before they parted ways. Jack went out the door, taking Ianto by the hand. The attractive Welsh brunette was waving goodbye as they went. Mal descended the stairs.

            “Simon?” He knocked on the door for the second time that day. “Ya wanna let me in? We need to talk.”

            Simon gulped, running his palm down his face. He had no choice to let his Captain in. Mal was nothing but persistent, and Simon really did not want him to break down the door the next time.

            “Sorry,” Simon muttered as soon as the door was open. “I meant to come up and eat, I just fell asleep.” It was a lie, of course, but he knew that Mal would not know the difference.

            “That ain’t why I’m down here,” Mal revealed as he sat down on the edge of Simon’s bed. “Look…” He crossed his arms over his broad chest and sighed deeply. “This ain’t working for us.”

            “Of course it isn’t,” Simon retorted in a snarky tone. “It does not work for anyone.”

            “Yes it does,” Mal corrected him, but surprisingly gently.  “And you’re a submissive, so you need a Dominant that can give you what you want. That ain’t me.”

            Simon blinked at him. How could he have figured out what Simon wanted? It did not matter, this conversation made it very clear that Mal did not want the same things. Not surprising. Mal was only the Daddy type to Kaylee, and he definitely was not sexually attracted to Simon. No, that would just be too weird. Simon felt something inside his break, but he held back whatever was clawing in his stomach to break free.

            Simon was a big boy, he could handle this. There was no reason to express these feeligns to Mal, he had been very clear about not being interested. Jutting out his chin, he spoke up. “So what are you suggesting?”

            “Jack and Phil are gonna take you on,” Mal declared with little ceremony. “I’ll keep an eye on you, but they’re gonna make the majority of the decisions.”

            Simon looked down at his feet, pretending to be in contemplation, but he was really hiding his crestfallen face from Mal’s sight.

            “You okay?” Mal inquired. He touched Simon’s leg, and Simon jerked away to avoid any further connection with the man.

            “Yeah. What do I need to do?” Simon asked, he managed to look up with a straight face.

            “I’ll take you over to Phil’s later tonight,” Mal explained as he stood up. “Why don’t ya come eat, okay?”

            And just like that Mal was out of his room and out of his life. The rotting feeling in his stomach resurfaced, and Simon ran to the bathroom to throw up. He wished that they had never flown through the space rift.

 

            “Afternoon, Tosh,” Jack greeted as he and Ianto slid into the kitchen. “Have you left that spot at all today?”

            “No, this data pad is fascinating. Did you know that-

            Before she could finish Jack had snatched the data pad from her fingers, and she was left reaching for it. “You could have gone and visited our new friends. We’re stuck here, Tosh. You can’t spend all day on a computer.”

            She knew that Jack was right, but it did not keep her from pouting. “Good news, I got us a job.”

            “A job?” Tosh questioned. “Here? Doing what?”

            “What you do best, Tosh,” Jack told her setting the data pad out of her reach. “Fiddling around with computers, so remember that when you want to use the data pad, and take a break will ya?”

            Jack had taken Ianto’s hand was leading him towards their bedroom. Meanwhile, Tosh was still calling after him. “What job, Jack?”

            Jack’s mind was elsewhere, and Tosh was left fuming at the kitchen table. With a sigh, she went to bother Owen. He had not come upstairs all day.

            “Let’s get you clean, little boy,” declared Jack as they entered the bathroom that was attached to the Master bedroom. There was a large garden tub and a stone waterfall shower. “So, you were a good boy today for Uncle Phil.”

            “Yes Daddy.” Ianto stood very still as Jack began to undress him.

            “He didn’t have to spank your bottom, did he?” Jack’s voice was sultry as he undid every single button with expert fingers.

            “No Daddy,” Ianto shook his head quickly. “But he can’t spank me. Only you can spank me!”

            “Is that so?” Jack asked as he unzipped Ianto’s slacks and yanked them down to make a point. “Who makes the rules around here, little boy?”

            “Daddy does.” Ianto lisped quickly.

            “That’s right.” Jack had him step out of his slacks before he pulled down Ianto’s briefs. He made a mental note to look for more boyish underwear for Ianto. Partly because he wanted to see Ianto’s ass pressed into some childish tighty whites. Jack smirked at the semi erect cock that Ianto was brandishing. “And Daddy says its okay for Uncle Phil to spank you if you are naughty. What do you think about that, Ianto Jones?” Jack was eying Ianto’s groin. “Being put across Phil Couson’s lap with your pants around your feet, and he spanks your bare little bottom until its nice and red. Phil has a heavy hand, you might even cry. And beg…”

            Ianto had tipped his head back, and his eyes were closed. A moan escaped his lips even though they were closed tight. Hic cock jerked violently against his will.

            “Then he would tell your Daddy,” Jack was pressed up against naked Ianto, his hand teasing around Ianto’s hipbone. “And I would be very disappointed that you had been a bad boy. What would I do, Ianto?”

            “Spank me too,” Ianto breathed out. He was squirming, his back pressed against the cold sink counter. He wanted to angle his throbbing dick into Jack’s hand. “Really, realy hard.”

            “That’s right, Ianto,” Jack half growled into his boys ear. “I would make Uncle Phil’s spanking feel like patty cake.”

            Ianto made a priceless whimpering sound, which brought life to Jack’s cock. While Jack wanted to be turned on just as much as Ianto, he also wanted to reward Ianto for taking such a big step into a role that they both knew was difficult for him. This moment was not about Jack’s pleasure, but for Ianto.

            “I think I’ll give my little boy a bath,” Jack took the naked Welshman by the hand to lead him toward the garden tub. Jack liked the idea that he was still clothed, and Ianto stood beside him vulnerably naked. It accented their roles so well; Dominant/submissive, Daddy/boy, Jack/Ianto.

            “Step in, baby boy,” Jack directed, taking Ianto by the elbow to help him climb into the warm water.

            Ianto managed somehow to hold onto his headspace. Jack had rarely been so tender with him, he had certainly never bathed him before. That thought sent his mind into panic. _Jack_ , no, _his Daddy_ , he corrected himself, was about to give him a bath. That was the most ridiculously childish thing they had ever done, but it was sweet and enduring. Ianto cocked his head in puzzlement as he thought.  
           

            “Ow!” Ianto cried out as Jack slapped his naked hindquarter. Ianto naively tried to glance over his shoulder at the handprint that was newly forming. Jack had to grin at childishness of that action.

            “I said sit down, Ianto,” Jack repeated. Ianto had been lost in his thoughts the first time, and had missed his direction. “Daddy can’t wash you standing up.”

            Ianto sheepishly sat down in the tub. He was not sure how to sit. How did kids sit in the bathtub? He could not believe that was the question he was asking himself. For a moment, he sat awkwardly, trying to find the right position. Jack watched him with an amused smile.

            “Criss cross apple sauce!” Ianto announced when he finally crossed his legs and leaned back onto the wall of the tub. “My primary school teacher used to say that.”

            Jack might have burst from the amount of adorable that Ianto had just conveyed. Still grinning, Jack picked up a fluffy loofah and dipped it under the running water.

            “Maybe we can find you some bubbles,” Jack spoke while he squeezed a dollop of body soap onto the loofah. He rubbed it in his hands till it was foamy white. “Would you like a bubble bath, baby boy?”

            Ianto cocked his lips to the side in a contemplative gesture. “I could take a bubble bath all by myself Daddy.”

            “Oh no you don’t,” Jack replied as he ran the soapy loofah down Ianto’s back. “You would never stay clean if Daddy did not help you.”

            “That’s not true!” Ianto stated with a little indignation in his voice. “I’m the cleanest person I know!”

            Jack was scrubbing the back of Ianto’s neck now. “Ah, you’re clean when you are big,” Jack corrected. “Little boys forget to clean themselves well.” 

            Ianto huffed a little, but relaxed as  Jack continued to scrub him clean. He finished with his back, and then started with Ianto’s chest, rubbing the bubbles into the little amount of chest hair that Ianto had. Down into his navel, to which Ianto promptly giggled and playfully splashed Jack. “That’s ticklish”

            Jack had never heard Ianto giggle before. Laugh, maybe, but even those times were few and far between. Jack was in shock just how happy Ianto looked in this role. He slid his hand underneath the water, to cup Ianto’s cock.

            Ianto froze. “You’re gonna wash there too Daddy?”

            “You bet, little boy,” Jack replied. He was already pull back the foreskin of Ianto’s cock to wash it thoroughly. Jack frowned for a moment. “You know Ianto… I’m not sure I like this.”

            Ianto looked up in a slight panic. Had he done something wrong. “Daddy?”

            “No, its not your fault baby,” Jack used his free hand to rub his head. “I just don’t think that little boys have hair on their cocks, do they?”

            Ianto thought about it. “No… “ He whispered delicately. “But how would I get it off.”

            “You wouldn’t,” Jack corrected as he cupped Ianto’s balls and massaged them underneath the water. “I would. I would have Uncle Phil teach me how to use a straight razor, he looks like a straight razor man.”

            Ianto whimpered at the thought of a straight razor being so close to his manhood. Though his groin responded in another way, and his cock began to fill out Jack’s palm. “Maybe…”

            “Maybe? Do you get to decided that?” Jack questioned him, squeezing Ianto’s cock for good measure. Ianto groaned as he shook his head frantically. “Uncross your legs and get on your hands and knees.”

            At first Ianto could only speculate why Jack would have him all fours in the bathtub, but then it dawned on him and his checks flushed crimson. “I can wash back there Daddy.”

            _Damn_ , Jack thought to himself. _There is no way that I’m going to keep myself from fucking him if he keeps blushing like that._

            Jack gave him a stern look, waiting till he complied. Then for a good reminder, peppered Ianto’s wet butt cheeks with firm spanks. Ianto made precious squeaking noises as he squirmed on his knees. “Ow! Daddy! Ouch! Oh! Please!”

            Jack felt his erection pressing hard into his slacks, if it was possible it grew even larger at Ianto’s begging. “You do what Daddy says the first time,” Jack lectured, shaking a pointed finger at him. “You got that baby boy?”

            “Yes Daddy,” Ianto bleated pathetically. He balanced on one hand, his other reaching back to rub the sting out of his pinkened flesh. “That hurt.”

            Jack chuckled at him, as he dipped the loofah in the water again. “Then you need to obey Daddy, and you want get spankings.” Jack pushed Ianto’s hand away before slipping the loofah between Ianto’s cheeks. Though Jack could barely see it, Ianto’s face had settled into an undignified pout.

            “Hmm,” Jack pondered outloud. “I’m not sure I want to use this here.” He tossed the loofah aside, and instead he began to rub his soapy fingers up in down Ianto’s asscrack. Ianto’s pout soon faded when Jack’s finger stopped on his very sensitive rosebud.  Without hesitation, Ianto pushed back onto the finger.

            Jack laughed out loud, his shoulders shaking violently. “You greedy little boy slut,” he teased in a seductive whisper. “You want Daddy’s finger all the way in your dirty hole.”

            Oh god. Ianto nearly collapsed into the water. He loved it when Jack talked dirty. Never in his life had he thought he would be into verbal sexual humiliation, but what his mind found confusing, his cock found extremely erotic. Ianto closed his eyes and bit his lip, his face still the color of sun burnt skin.

            “Tell Daddy that’s what you want,” Jack ordered him, his finger still tempting the wrinkled hole.

            Ianto gasped at the thought of repeating what Jack had said. Squirming on the palms of his hands, he opened his mouth, but only soft whimpers came out.

            “Daddy can’t hear you.”

            “Please Daddy,” Ianto gasped in desperation. “Fuck my hole with your fingers.”

            “Hmmm,” Jack inserted his fingers, but only slightly, then he pulled it back out. Ianto mewled at him. “That was pretty good, baby boy, but not good enough.”

            Ianto gulped. The pressure in between his legs was almost unbearable. He wanted to reach down and stroke himself off, but Jack would never allow it. He also knew that he would never be able to maintain balance on his hands in knees with one of his hands pumping away at his dick.

            “Daddy…” Ianto hesitated, still slightly humiliated by the sexy talk. “Fuck my naughty, greedy little hole with your big fingers. Please! Please! Make me your little boy slut!” His words were dripping with need and desire. He eyes full of passion and want. If Jack did not bring him to orgasm, he would just die.

            Jack seemed satisfied, and slid his soapy finger knuckle deep into Ianto’s anus. A moan of gratification passed over Ianto’s slightly parted lips. Before he could enjoy the feeling, Jack had inserted a second finger. He thrust it back and forth, listening to the hitches in Ianto’s breath as he did. Then a third joined, and he repeated the same motion. He and Ianto fucked regularly, so his asshole was very accommodating to stretching.

            “Little boy,” Jack purred sublimely. “Fuck yourself on Daddy’s fingers. Now!”

            Ianto could not refuse such an attractive order. He began rocking back and forth on his knees instantly. Jack’s fingers slid almost all the way out before Ianto thrust back on them. He moaned pleasurably each time he pushed back onto Jack’s fingers. Jack fucked him in rhythm, pushing deeper into him when the boy rocked backwards.

            “Can you come like this Ianto?” Jack inquired after they had found a beautiful rhythm and Jack was hitting the boys sweet spot with each thrust.

            “Yes Daddy!” Ianto squeaked loudly, not pausing for one second. It felt so good.       

            “You must ask,” disclosed Jack. He was maneuvering himself on the floor so he could  keep his fingers inside Ianto’s ass, and see the Welshman’s face. “Ask Daddy to come.”

            Ianto did not need to be told twice. Between sensation of Jack’s fingers and the sexy humilation… he had been ready for a while. “Please Daddy,” Ianto pleaded at the top of his voice. “Please let me cum!”

            Jack considered it. He let Ianto work himself on his fingers a few more times before he made a decision. “You may.”

            Of course, Ianto never disobeyed an order, and with a particularly hard thrust cried out in pleasure.  Normally, he would be focused on the pleasure within his dick as it released its spunk, but not this time. Ianto was overwhelmed by more then just physical pleasure. Jack had managed to get in his head, and his whole body was jerking in submission, not just his cock. It felt wonderful. The most powerful orgasm Jack had ever given him.

            When it was over, Jack pulled his fingers out of him, patted his bottom, and help the boy off his knees.

            “Now look at that,” Jack drawled with a grin. “You got your self dirty and your bathwater isn’t clean anymore.” Ianto looked at him through blurry eyes.

            “I will just have to get you clean in the shower, with me.” Jack had been right about one thing. He was not able to get through this without needing to fuck Ianto. “And you made Daddy hard… we’ll do something about that in the shower too.”

            Ianto half grinned at him, and he looked down at his flaccid cock. He thought about Jack taking him in the shower, and it responded naturally, though it was slightly painful. With a grin, Ianto used Jack as a crutch to stand. Whether he wanted too or not—and he did want too—he was in for round two.

           

            “Arrow! Damnit! Red Fucking Arrow!” Clint screamed, backing away from Phil.         

            Coulson had not even begun to deal with his wayward agent yet, he had simply told Clint about the decision about Simon. He could see the distress in Clint’s eyes, the fear of being replaced. He sighed internally. Clint doubted him.  After all these years and Clint was still insecure. Phil had meant to reassure him. This whole night was about reminding Clint who he belonged too and how special he was. In a moment of panic, Clint had safe worded. Phil could not ignore a safeword.

            Stepping forward, Phil took Clint’s chin rougly in his hand. “Little boy,” He said, centimeters away from Clint’s face. “You better be sure that’s what you want. You throwing a fit won’t change my decision, and it will only put this punishment on hiatus. Your behavior today has been appalling, and I intend to correct it.”

            Clint jerked his chin away from Clint’s grasp. “Yeah I’m sure. Now fuck off.”

            Phil had never struck Clint across the face before, but the boy was asking for it. Phil would honor the safe word; he would not lay a finger on Clint. Rounding on his heel he approached their bed and turned down the covers. “Strip your clothes off and get in.”

            Clint looked at him with a puzzled expression.

            “Unless you want to remove your collar, and yourself from this relationship, then I still make the calls around here,” Phil barked in a deadly tone, that he knew that would cut to Clint’s core. “You used your safeword, and I am bound by the terms of our relationship to agree to that. Just because I will not be dealing with your insubordinate behavior tonight does not mean that you get out scot-free. You’ll stay right here, in this bed. Not a foot on the ground without my knowledge. You can sit in the dark and contemplate your behavior until you are ready to talk to me like a consenting adult.”

            “But…” Clint had lost the fight in him. He realized now that he had pushed Phil past his breaking point. He mouth was slightly agape in pure shock by his Dominants firm actions. Barton began to think twice about questioning Phil’s ownership over him. He did not want to remove his collar, even the mention of the idea caused a lump to form in his throat, and he had to hold back tears.

            “Keep talking Barton,” Phil encouraged in the same voice. “I can make you sleep on the floor at the foot of the bed if you want to push me.”

            Clint gulped, almost certain that Phil would live up to that threat. He immediately started to strip his clothes. There was no ceremony to this state of undressing. Sometimes Phil would undress Clint himself, to reinforce the roles they played. Other times he would have Barton undress for his pleasure, so he could admire each seductive curve of his body and the way his skin flushed different colors as the cool air rushed over it. Not tonight. Clint lost his clothes quickly, stacked them on the nearby dresser, and slid into the bed as he had been instructed.

            Phil tucked the covers around him firmly. He bent over Clint to look directly into his eyes. “Clint Barton,” asserted Phil as his steel gray hues burned with disappointment. “I’m going to be honest with you, this is the first time that you have pushed me to the point that releasing you was a potential option.”

            Clint could not hold those tears back anymore. A single, salty tear fell out of the corner of his eye. On his face was a map of his heartbreak. Phil could see the realization setting in.  A tiny gesture of affection, Phil reached up to wipe the tear away.

            “But I made a promise to you,” Phil’s voice softened now. “I told you that I would never leave you because of your baggage. Tasha and I agreed to help you with it, and that’s what I will do. I know you are afraid that I will abandon you, but,” Phil was cupping Clint’s cheek as he spoke. Barton was fighting back more tears. “that is far from reality, baby boy. You are mine. If I have to prove that to you everyday for the next year… I will do it.”

            Those words broke Clint. And for the second time in a period of a few short days, Clint was sobbing. He threw himself into Coulson’s lap, who—no matter how angry he was with Clint—instinctively wrapped his arms around Barton’s shaking frame.

            Coulson expected no words from the boy. They had not gotten to the point where Clint would apologize yet.  Right now, Clint was like the child that got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He was crying because he was in trouble, not because he felt remorse or the lesson had been learned.

            “I’m going to go take a walk, I need to clear my head,” Phil announced, helping Barton back onto the pillows when his sobs had subsided to mere sniffles. “You can get up only to relieve yourself, if you disobey me Clint… so help me…”

            “I won’t,” Clint frantically, exclaimed, not giving Coulson a chance to complete his sentence.

            Phil rose from the bed giving Barton a grunt and nod of approval. He flipped off the light in the room, before leaving Clint to his thoughts.

           

            Natasha was the first to notice her handler walking wearily around the patio, with his hands in his suit pockets. That was not right, with the things that she had seen Coulson carrying into the condo he would have been involved with Clint for hours. She rose from the table to go to him, but remembered the girls were in her care.

            She was about to call out to Jayne, but then thought better of it. Luckily, Mal was remerging from the basement. “Mal,” she said quickly. “I need to step outside for a moment. The girls will be fine, right?”

            Mal looked at Abby and Kaylee, who were both so wrapped up in their activities that they had not noticed Phil. “Yeah, they’re fine.”

            Natasha patted Kaylee’s head quickly before she rushed to Phil’s side. “Phil?” Natasha place a hand gently on the crook of his arms. “Phil… what happened?’

            “He used his safe word,” Phil did not exactly jerk away from Tasha’s touch, but he did pull his arm so they were not touching. He fell down into one of the patio chairs, his head in his hands. Neither of them had heard Clint use his safe word before. He never had too. The three of them always practiced excellent communication and negotiation. Tasha could not be sure where the issue originated, but she quickly made the assumption that Clint was being a drama queen. She could tell Phil blamed himself, even though he had probably done nothing wrong. She gently sat down besides him, without speaking, she knew that Phil would tell her when he was read.

            He did eventually, but not before realizing that he had brushed off his female partner. He took her hand before addressing the situation. “I told him about Simon,” Phil’s voice held a hint of regret. “He flipped. Screamed his safe word at me, and told me not to fucking touch him.”

            Tasha felt a surge of frustration for Clint. He was stupid, but she had never heard him challenge their handler that way. “You did the right thing,” Natasha squeezed his hand reassuringly. “Taking on Simon. That was the right thing to do. Clint is over reacting.”

            “That is my dilemma, Natasha,” Phil countered in frustration. “What if he isn’t over reacting? It’s wrong of me to force him to share me like.”

            “Phil,” Romanoff scoffed shaking her head. “Clint has always shared you. With me, with our team, with Fury… sharing you has never been a problem before. He’s watched you play with other people at the club, Phil. This is not about Simon or Ianto.”

            “Then what is this about?” Phil demanded angrily. Shooting up from the chair, he paced back in forth in front of Natasha.

            “I think you already know the answer to that.” Natasha rarely put herself on an equal playing field as Phil, she naturally submitted to him and his authority, but there were times when she spoke to him on the level of Dom to Domme. This was one of them. “That is a lot of pressure on you right now, and on us, as a relationship. We’re the only ones, save Jack, that have the knowledge that these people are searching for. He is not afraid to loosing you to one person, he is afraid to loosing you to everyone, to this world.” When Phil hesitated to by that, Natasha brought up the evidence. “How many times have you seen Clint cry since we got here?” She let him think. “More then usual? We knew that this was going to be an issue that day he fell apart on Serenity. If you try and tell that you were not expecting this, then you’re lying.”

            Phil barely nodded.

            “Phil! I’m not going to let you beat yourself up over this!” Tasha raised her voice at him. Other then Director Fury, no one raised voices to Phil. She might regret it later, but for now, it seemed acceptable. “Don’t be stupid like our pup! Deal with this! If you don’t, I’ll deal with both of you.”

            Phil’s face softened for a moment. This was Natasha’s way of saying ‘I love you, don’t fuck this up.’ He got the message, and his stone grey eyes said all the thanks to her.  “You can try,” he challenged, grinning a little.

            “Do not underestimate me,” retorted Tasha, flipping her hair. “Just because I choose to defer to your authority does not make me weak.”

            “No,” Phil agreed, she reached up to touch her soft cheek with his thumb. “You are one the strongest individual I know, and I would never be able to keep Pup without you.”  

            Tasha closed her yes as she laid into his hand. Phil and she rarely had public displays of affection. They kept their moments of intimacy behind closed doors, and reserved mostly for Clint. Unlike their sex with Clint, the two of them had an egalitarian sex life. They both enjoyed rough sex with one other, and often found a rough and tumble in the sheets to be exactly what they needed.

            “Thank you, Sir.” Tasha lisped into his fingers. The significance of her thank you spoke a million words. Natasah Romanoff had a dark past, one that she preferred not to revisit. It had been Phil and Clint that had helped her find a true purpose for her life. The red in her ledger would never be wiped entirely; she would always have to live with her mistakes, but now she lived with them with the unconditional support from two amazing men. Phil needed no explanation of the thanks she had offered. Bending down, he kissed her temple. He was proud of her and the steps she had taken to be who she was. He kissed the tip of her nose. As far as he was concerned, her dark past was nothing. He kissed her lips. He loved Natasha Romanoff.

            “I’m going to go speak with Simon,” Phil told her as he pulled away, leaving his redheaded partner breathing heavily. “Clint needs time to reflect, and having Simon over tonight won’t fit into the plans like I though. Do you want to come?”

            Natasha was recovered from Phil’s touch, her breasts rising and descending in rapid motion. “I think… I will go take a shower?”

            Phil grinned at her. She was not planning on taking a shower, but touching herself till she was a puddle on the bathroom floor.” Are you asking permission, Agent Romanoff?”

            She grinned cheekily back at him as she stood, her legs a little weak. “Consider it implied.”

            Phil had no control over Natasha’s sexual gratification. She often asked him if she had permission to come out of habit or desire, but it had never been a requirement between them. Phil decided today was one of the days he could play with her. “Yes, you may,” But he did not leave it that. “Take your watch with you into the bathroom, set the timer for twenty minutes. You must touch yourself in a manner that I would touch you for that allotted amount of time. When the timer goes off, then and only then, my you orgasm.”

            Natasha was shuttering again. The thought made her mind race and her pussy drip. Phil started towards Mal’s condo. “Oh and Tasha,” he turned, still smiling at her. “When you do come, make sure you thank me.”

            Tasha nodded quickly before she shot off in the other direction.

            Chuckling, Phil slid into the back door for second time that day.

            “Hiya Mr. Phil,” Abby greeted. They had been coloring for a several hours now. The coloring book was nearly exhausted and they were running out of blank pages.

            “Hi back at you,” Phil greeted. He was surprised to see both Mal and Jayne at the table with the girls. Kaylee had found paste, and she had expertly put together a makeshift crown with the paper. Jayne was wearing it with a frown. Kaylee was sitting in Mal’s lap, making another crown for her Daddy. Phil held back a chuckle.

            Jayne glared at him. “I ain’t saying these kids are cute or anything,” Jayne mumbled miserably. “But if anyone tried to hurt them, I’d shoot em.”

            “That might be the most enduring thing that I have ever heard come out of your mouth, Mr. Cobb,” Phil praised him.

            “Sure as hell is the nicest thing I’ve ever heard him say,” Mal announced, shooting his crewmember a mocking smile. Kaylee put an end to that when she placed the paper crown on Mal’s head. “Oh Goody!” His voice dripping with sarcasm.

            Coulson was out right laughing now at the two of them. Abby and Kaylee ignored their opposition, and continued to involve them in their little girl activities. Phil glanced around the corner to make sure that Jimmy was still napping. That kid must have not slept last night, he passed out right where Phil had left him.

            “Did you talk to Simon?” Phil inquired as he examined the girls drawings.

            “Yeah, he understands,” Mal answered gruffly as Kaylee slid off his lap. He patted her backside and helped her up in the chair next to him.

            “Mr. Phil?” Kaylee asked sheepishly. “Did ya spank Clint?”

            “Kaylee, that ain’t your buisness bit,” Jayne reprimanded her with a parental glare.

            “No, Jayne, it’s okay,” Phil sat down beside Abby and across from Kaylee. “I think it’s important for them to know what happens when they misbehave.”

            Kaylee gulped as she exchanged looks with Mal. He tilted his head towards Phil, directing her to listen to him.

            “Clint did not get a spanking,” Phil told them honestly. Abby was looking at him with wide, curious eyes. Kaylee looked terrified. “He was very mouthy and now he is a very big timeout. I put him to bed.”

            Mal subconsciously took notes. He seriously doubted that he would have to deal with Kaylee in such a way, but it was good to know.  Besides, it seemed like Zoe would be doing most of the discipline where their little mechanic was involved. He was just there to wear the funny hat.

            “Are you gonna spank Simon someday?” Kaylee asked Phil, her fingers twisting nervously on the belt of her robe.

            “Possibly,” Phil answered. “If he is naughty. You get in trouble when you’re naughty too, right?” He prodded the discussion further, taking Kaylee and Abby both deeper down their little girl rabbit holes.  “If you’re a bad girl, you might get a spanking. Just like Simon of Clint”

            Kaylee glanced at Mal again, who was watching her intently. “My Momma,” she said quietly. “She’d would. She don’t mess around with bad little girls. But Daddy… he wouldn’t spank me, would you Daddy?”

            “Don’t count on it grease monkey,” Mal answered, smirking as he crossed is arms over his chest. “This ain’t like being on Serenity. You screw up, there are gonna be consequences.”

            Kaylee whimpered but her head bobbed up and down.

            “What about you Abby?” Phil turned his attention to the dark headed girl, who had been very silent. “You know what happens to naughty little ones, right?”

            “My Gibbs would never hit me,” she said matter of fact, though both she and Phil both knew that was far from the truth. Jethro Gibbs was the most likely to resort to spanking his team. “That’s because he knows I’m always a good girl.”

            “Most of the time, Abs,” Gibbs spoke from where he was leaning in the doorway that Phil had conveniently left open. “I just busted Tony’s ass, you’re not exempt.”

            Abby blushed and looked down quickly at her piece of paper. “Hi Gibbs.”

            “Mmhmm,” Gibbs moved to stand behind her, resting her hands on her shoulders. “Now you greet me after you tell your Uncles lies.” It was odd addressing Mal, Jayne, and Phil as the title of Uncle. However, since he was Abby’s Daddy it seemed only fitting that Abby would call the other Daddy Dominants by the title Uncle. Gibbs could hardly believe he was perpetuating this.

            “Not a lie, My Gibbs,” Abby answered looking up at him. “You have never hit me!”

            “And I won’t ever hit you,” Gibbs corrected her; he bent over and kissed her forehead, a gesture that they shared between them on numerous occasion. “I’ll spank your bare little bottom.”

            Abby pouted as she stared up at him. Gibbs patted her cheek. “Tony is resting,” He announced. “I came to get my two back from Phil, they could use a nap too. Where is Palmer?”

            “Aw man,” Abby whined, and Kaylee frowned at the announcement of loosing her friend.

            Mal and Jayne chuckled. “You to late to put that kid down for a nap,” Jayne jerked his finger towards the living room. “He’s being sleeping since he got here.”

            “Don’t wake him,” Mal instructed as he began to help Kaylee and Abby clean up their things. “I’ll keep and eye on him and send him over when he wakes up.”

            “Speaking of naps, that sounds like a right good idea.” This from Zoe, who had just joined them in the kitchen. Wash was following, stretching his arms with a yawn.

            “But Momma,” Kaylee objected. “You just woke up.”

            “Not for me, silly girl,” she was pouring herself a glass of water. “You.”

            “Just our luck,” Abby muttered as she slid off the chair to stand next to Gibbs. “We become little’s and you make us take naps.”

            “Seems pretty logical to me,” Wash said, taking the glass of water from his wife. “Upstairs, monkey, I’ll tuck ya in.” He pushed Kaylee in the direction of her room, and they disappeared, with Kaylee whining the whole way up the stairs.

            Gibbs took Abby’s hand and led her to the door. They said their goodbyes and Jethro offered thanks for all the help he had been given today. Abby bent over and kiss Phil on the cheek. “Thanks for making this happen,” she whispered in his ear. He beamed with pride.

            “What about you, Phil?” Mal asked leaning back in his chair. “What your plans?”

            “Well, now that you have talked to Simon… I need to talk to him,” Phil informed him. Zoe looked puzzled.

            “What did I miss?”

            “Maybe ya should not be in your room sexing your husband all day,” Jayne joked. They glared at each other

            “I’ll tell ya later,” Mal shot off a look that stopped both of them. “He’s down stairs in his room, you want me to be there?”

            “Either way is fine,” Phil was already standing up from the table.

            “I think I already shocked him for the day,” Mal admitted honestly. “He probably don’t want me involved anymore.”

            “Fair enough.” Phil left Mal to explain to his first-mate exactly what had transpired that day. He was not sure which room was Simon’s and he had not bothered to ask. It was not that hard to figure out though, it was the only one with the bolted door.

            “Simon,” Phil called out gently. “It’s Phil. Let me in.” It was a command, but a gentle one. Phil liked to set boundaries from the very beginning. Not being allowed in had not been an option, so no please was necessary. He heard the door click, and saw Simon peak his head out.

            “I…” Simon hesitated, but he ended up opening the door all the way. “I know why you are here.”

            Phil slid past him, closing the door behind him. This was a private conversation between himself and Simon. He wanted Simon to know that.

            “Are you comfortable with the arrangement between you, Jack, and myself?” Phil jumped right into it with no beating around the bush. He sat on the edge of the bed, leaning over to face Simon.

            “Yes, I told Mal that I was.”

            “Tell me.” Phil ordered quickly.

            “I’m a submissive,” he answered automatically, blinking at Phil. “I need…” He paused. _I need Mal_ , he thought to himself, but refrained from saying it. “Someone strong, and someone to make sure I don’t screw up.”

            Phil nodded curtly. “Are you saying that you do not just want a protective collar, but more or a D/s dynamic?”

            That certainly seemed like what he was saying. He wanted those things with Mal, but that was not an option anymore. Phil and Jack… maybe they could help bandage that gaping wound.

            “I think so…” Simon muttered, rubbing his hand through his hair.

            “That is not out of the question, Simon,” Phil explained. He patted the bed beside him for Simon to join him. The kid looked like he was going to pass out where he stood. Nerves, probably. “I can negotiate that type of relationship with you,” Phil told him honestly. “If that is what you need and that is what you want.”

            “Before I say yes…” Simon sat himself beside Phil slowly. “Will you tell me what that involves?”

            Phil smiled at him. Good boy, never agree to anything without knowing the terms.

            “Let’s get the necessities out of the way,” Phil announced abruptly. “Jack and I will not have sex with you. First off, I don’t think you want that, and second we both have sexual partners who have respectively asked that we keep that aspect of our relationship private.”

            Simon nodded. He did not want to have sex with Jack or Phil. The thought made his stomach turn into sick knots. The only person he wanted to have sex with was someone that was out of the possibility. His hand would suffice for now, but only wished he could rid himself of the sexual fantasies he had for Mal. “I can agree to that.”

            “That does not mean that part of our relationship will not be sexual,” Phil went on. “For example, if you enter into D/s with me one of my rules is that I control when and if you orgasm. That is not about sex. That is about control and submission. If you want to masturbate then you will ask permission. If you want to come while we are playing, then you will ask for permission. You will be various stages of undress through the remainder of this relationship; and it is highly sexual. It represents many thing such as your place in the relationship, my places in the relationship, or just the desired attire for what I want to do with you. Does those things make sense in my explanation of how things may be sexual but not having sex?”

            Simon nodded. So much for his hand.

            “I have rules,” Phil continued. “I’m not sure if Jack has separate rules, you will have to discuss that with him, but these are my terms. Rule Number One: We talk. If anything is bothering you, something happens, you want to change anything,  or you just need to chat… you come to me. That is the main reason I do this, is to provide support and guidance. I don’t like secrets and I do not like being blind sighted. Withholding information from me is as bad as lying and will warrant serious punishment. Do you understand?”

            Simon forced himself to nod emphatically. Great, he was already entering this relationship on the wrong foot. He would never tell Phil about the desires for the Captain that had just given him up. Of course, it was unlikely to come up in conversation, so Simon assumed he was safe.

            “Second. Together, you and I take care of you. This means that you eat, sleep, and do all the things that you need to do to stay healthy. I’ll remind you to do all of the things, but you should be able to maintain them willingly. If you refuse or start to slip, then I will make sure that it is taken care off.”

            “Third. You should try and obey me and Jack at all times. Playful bratting has a time and a place so I do tolerate it on occasion and so does Jack, and I trust that you can decipher when it is acceptable. However, there will be times that I give you and order and it is not one to argue with.”

            Simon could agree to that too. He was generally very obediently. Sometimes he was sarcastic with Mal, but that was different.  “Yes Sir.”

            “Good,” Phil phrased. “That is not a rule, but you should call me Sir as much as possible. Agent Coulson is the only other acceptable term for you.”

            “Next Rule,” he kept going after her had offered the kid some reassurance. “We all respect each others existing or developing relationships. I have Clint and Tasha. Jack has Ianto. There will be times that you might feel neglected while we deal with them, and that is fine, see rule number one and tell me. I will not tolerate acting out because you do not feel that you are not getting attention. I decide who and what attention is given and at the best times. The same thing goes for you. This is not a permanent situation for us; I can see that in your eyes. You might find a Dominat on this planet or in our circle that meets your needs better than Jack or I can. There might be a time when Jack and I no longer meet your needs, and I respect your right to leave at anytime, and I will let you go, but only after doing my duty as your protector to make sure that individual will be able to take care of you. It is also my duty to make sure that if you decide to leave myself and Jack that you are prepared.”

            Simon sighed loudly. He had already found a Dominant that could suit his needs better then Phil, but Mal only existed in his wildest, kinkiest dreams. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I will do my best not to cause an issue between other relationships.”

            “Proceeding on. I already told you, that your orgasms belong to me, but this rule is a little bit more in depth. Anything that you would do that is not normally part of your day, you need to ask permission for. For example, I want you to eat healthy and well, if you decide that you want to consume a monumental amount of  candy, you better be asking for permission. If I tell you to be in bed by a certain time, and you feel that you need to stay up for some reason, you better ask permission. If you want to leave then condo area without prior authorization, you need to ask. Do not think that you can find loopholes either,” Phil warned him. “You will know what is right and wrong. If you can’t find me to ask permission, Jack is your next contact, or Tasha. The same goes for any rule that Jack gives you, if you can’t find him, come find one of us.”

            He allowed Simon to take that in.

            “Final rule. I reserve the right to change the rules upon communication with you and/or Jack.”

            Simon chuckled a little bit. “Catchy clause.”

            Phil joined in, seeing the boy relax. “It’s always worked in the past.”

            “Can I ask some questions?” Simon uttered.

            “I would be concerned if you did not,” Phil asserted in truth.

            “You mentioned punishments,” Simon murmured, only slightly loud enough for Phil to hear. “What are those limited too?”

            “I’m very creative with my punishmments,” Phil asserted. He thought back to the many times he had made Clint’s jaw drop in surprise. “Punishments are not meant to be enjoyed, however there is a wide range of things that I might chose from. Because you are new, I will discuss punishments with you before hand, and you will have that time to convince me otherwise or safe word. Does that answer your question? It is impossible for me to give you specific answers.”

            Simon supposed that he would have to deal with that. It was not like he needed much of an imagination to come up with ideas of how Phil and Jack would punish him.

            “If all I am having to do is punish you,” Phil went on. “Then we have issues. Either you are not happy in the relationship and are unable to maintain the rules, or I’m not doing enough to meet your needs.”

            Simon agreed with that. He knew very little about this Dom/sub crap, but it seemed unrealistic to be in trouble all the time. Unless you were that guy DiNozzo. He just had trouble written all over his face.

            “It’s okay if I’m not very good, right?” Simon questioned nervously. “In the beginning.”

            “Simon,” Phil patted the boy on the back. “If you truly want this, then the option is open. I’ll walk you though, holding your hand. You’ve seen be strict with Clint because we have been together for a long time, but I can be gentle. I will be with a new sub. It would be cruel not too.”

            “Do I stay here… or where do I go?” Simon asked him with slight hesitation agian. “I need to be close to my sister.”

            Phil nodded in complete understanding. “You may stay here,” he answered. “But there will always be space for you at my place, and I’m sure with Jack as well.”

            “Then I think I want to do this,” Simon finally said standing up. “I’ll defer to you for protection, even if this does not work out.”

            “The first things first,” Phil stood with him and placed a firm hand on the back of his neck to guide him to the door. “I’m taking you upstairs to eat something.”

            Simon groaned. This was the beginning of an utter disaster.

           

           

           

            


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Sorry this took so long. I got put in charge of a special project at work and it takes up a lot of my time.  
> 2\. Also… I need more plot bunnies. Feed the muse, please. I haven’t even started on the next chapter… so make your request or suggestion. ^_^  
> 3\. I’m also binge-watching Supernatural. So, like I said before. If Dean/Sammy/Cas end up in this story, it would not surprise me.  
> 4\. Thanks to my dearest Lizzy. She went over this for me, and she is my sounding board. Love you sweetheart. At this point, this story is for you as much as it is for me.  
> 5\. Don’t own them, except the Masoch De Sade OC’s.  
> 6\. Which reminds me… would you be opposed to Jensen/Alto/Serena having their own chapter? I know a lot of people read this for the fandom… so I try to avoid OC’s  
> 7\. BDSM/Kink/AgePlay... all types of alternative sex lifestyles are based on hours and hours of communication and consent. Do not try this at home just for funsies. Do you research, talk to your partner. Sure it’s fun to read about and fap too, but some of the stuff is not only physically dangerous, but can emotionally manipulate a person to an unhealthy level.  
> 8\. Yeah, this chapter is heavy on the NCIS team. Sorry... they were who was coming easiest to me. Next will be Clint's day of reckoning... and that is all I know.

            

 

 

 

“Are you okay, Ianto?” Jack inquired as he stepped out of the shower. He had a towel wrapped around his waist. Water droplets were rolling down his perfectly shaped chest. “Do you need help with anything?”

            Ianto had not bothered to even put a towel after their shower together. He was leaning over the bathroom sink, looking weak at his knees.

            “Yeah…I’m fine.” He barely replied, before he splashed his face with water.

            Jack looked at him accusingly. There was no way that Ianto was okay. “I’m putting you to bed,” Jack announced. He purposely strolled over to Ianto. The Welshman pulled his arm away before Jack could grip it.

            “No,” he pleaded desperately. “We have to go to dinner with Minister Applegate. I will get some coffee…I will be fine.”

            Jack raised an eyebrow at him. It was not like Ianto to argue with him. “Hey, hey, hey…” Jack softened his voice, as he pulled Ianto into his clean chest. “You’ve had a long day, baby boy. It could not have been easy to be a little boy for the first time.”

            Ianto was like putty in Jack’s hands. He wrapped his arms around Jack’s waist and laid his head on the damp shoulder. “It was hard,” Ianto admitted into Jack’s neck. “But… I liked it.”

            “I did too.” Jack was rubbing his back, slightly swaying back and forth. “But I would be a bad Daddy if I took you out tonight. You look like you’re going to fall down any minute.”

            “You can’t turn down a dinner with the Prime Minister,” objected Ianto, shaking his head. “I can stay at home.”

            “I’m not going without you.” Jack put an end to that plan before Ianto could even object.

            “Then I’ll get some coffee, and put on my big boy briefs and deal with it.”

            “If I have my way you will never be wearing big boy underwear again,” Jack answered with a seductive smirk. “And I always get my way.”

            Ianto half smirked at him, but exhaustion was written all over his face. “Put your charismatic cheek away Jack, this is serious.”

            “I was being serious!” He was pushing Ianto towards their bed. He pointed to the corner of the bedspread. “Sit.” Ianto dropped down on the mattress instantly.

            “Jack really…” Ianto attempted one more time to bargain with his Captain. Jack ignored him and was digging around in one of the drawers.

            “Thank you, Cornelia Applegate!” He called when he opened the top drawer one of the dressers. “Applegates always come through.”

            “Jack what are you talking about,” Ianto was asking as he tried to peer around Jack into the drawer. He did not have to wait long for the answer. Jack held up an unopened package of underwear. Ianto gawked at them. They were kids underwear. Kids underwear in adult sizes.

            Ianto’s jaw dropped. “How did... there is no way they stocked this house with..

            “Little boy briefs with rocket ships on them?” Jack finished as he began to take them out of the package. “I told you… Applegates never fail. I bet there is a maid outfit in the closet? Wanna play dress up?”

            Ianto just glared at him.

“No? Yeah… that isn’t my thing either.” Jack was approaching him holding out the pale blue boy briefs adorned with little red and green spaceships. “This, however, is. If you’re going to be a little boy you should look the part.” Jack knelt to hold the pair of underwear at his feet.

            “Jack I….” Ianto was shaking his head as he looked down at the briefs. When Jack looked up at him with a stern face, he sighed before sticking his right foot in and then the left. “You _were_ serious about the little boy underwear.”

            Jack pulled them up by the waist band. “When am I not serious?” Jack asked as he helped Ianto to stand up so he could finish pull them up and over his backside. Jack tucked Ianto’s soft cock inside, and then stood back to admire. Jack rested his chin on his hand as he rounded Ianto. The briefs fit his ass just right; tightening in all the right places to make his rounded butt cheeks pop.

            “Daddy likes.” Jack praised patting the spaceships.

            “Good, now that we have sufficiently humiliated me,” Ianto started to the closet. “I’m going to get dressed so we can go to this dinner.”

            “Ianto Jones,” Jack called after him in a very strict tone. “If you come out of that closet in anything but something to sleep in… I will seriously spank you.”

            Ianto stopped and bit down on his lip, his eyes rolled skyward in frustration. He also was physically incapable of disobeying an order. He ripped a t-shirt off its hanger before yanking it over his head.

            “Can I at least get dinner?” Ianto demanded, stomping out to stand in front of Jack. Jack was smirking with his arms crossed over his chest.

            “Sure,” Jack replied with a sly smile. “You walk right down to the kitchen in your rocket ship underwear… just like that.”

            Ianto looked down in panic, then back up with a beautiful pout. “Jack…” He whimpered. “Why are you driving me crazy?”

            Jack threw his head back and laughed. “Since when have I not driven you crazy?”

            Ianto considered this question, then rolled his eyes again. The man had a point. The dedicated Ianto decided to change the subject. “Shall I contact Minister Applegate about our absence?”

            “Ianto,” Jack reached out to touch his cheek. “You’re not Torchwood’s butler anymore. You never were, but now, you’re my little boy, okay? Stop trying to be in charge.”

            Ianto opened his mouth to say something, but Jack put his finger on his lips. Ianto struggled with this part the most. Letting go, letting Jack be in control. He had spent so many years telling Jack where he needed to be, providing information, getting the team places on time, and serving the coffee. He kept the Torchwood Institute running. Now Jack had to keep him running, and that was hard.

            “Get into bed,” Jack directed as he jerked his chin in the direction of the bed.  Jack knew that Ianto could be a fine service submissive, he had proved it since the day Jack had hired him. It was time for Ianto to let go, and Jack could see the wanting in his eyes each and everytime he called him Daddy. “I’ll get a hold of Cornelia and I’ll bring you something upstairs to eat.”

            “Jac-

            Jack pushed him towards the bed with a swat to those adorable briefs. “That’s Daddy to you. Now go rest. I won’t ask you again.”

            Ianto slid up on the bed. Jack, satisfied, started to the door.

            “Daddy?”

            “What’s up kid?” Jack asked, turning back around.

            Ianto was grinning shyly back at him. “Can I have a kiss? And will you tuck me in?”

***

           

            “Pup?”

            Phil pushed open the door with his back, holding a tray. On it was a sandwich and some fruit. “I brought you dinner.”

            Clint had fallen asleep, but he had not moved from the bed. Phil smiled at the younger agent. He was curled up with Phil’s pillow to his chest, a stream of drool pouring out of the corner of his mouth as he was deeply breathing.

            Setting the tray down on the bedside table, Phil slid down in the empty space beside him. Phil was not about to awaken his wayward brat. In fact, he was hoping that some rest would do the boy good. He propped up on the headboard and waited, but not before grabbing the controller for the halo screen. The sound would not bother Clint, and Phil was not leaving the boy again for the evening.

            “Hi.” Clint stirred, but kept his head on the pillow. He blinked up at Phil.

            “Did you have nice nap?” Phil switched off the halo screen.

            “Yeah,” Clint bit down on his lip and then quickly corrected himself. “Yes Sir.”

            “Good to see that your good sense has returned,” Phil praised him, he reached patted his chest, instructing Clint to come cuddle with him.

            “About that…” Clint said nervously as he crawled across the bed to lay his head on Clint’s bare chest. “Can… we talk about Simon?”

            “We can always talk about anything,” Phil wrapped his arms around Clint’s body to hold him close. “That was why I got so upset at you, boy. You did not even want to talk to me about it. You just shouted at me.”

            “I know,” Clint mumbled, drawing his knees up, bawling up as close to Phil as he could. “I don’t know why I did that…”

            Phil chuckled a little at his response. “You do. And so do I.”

            “Enlighten me then, please Sir?” It was slightly bratty tone, but one Phil could handle. He wanted Clint relaxed, and if he was was playful enough to banter with him, then that was good.

            “Well,” Phil was rubbing his back in circles. “You think that Simon is somehow going to replace your role in our relationship. That I am going to get another boy, and somehow you are going to kicked to the curb?”

            Clint’s breath caught and Phil felt his whole body tighten. “That might be part of it…”

            “Mmmhmm,” Phil acknowledged not ceasing from rubbing Clint’s back. “The other part is this world. You have never been in service to Tasha and me full time. We have always had our work, where you have been equal, and you are walking on eggshells to do it correctly.”

            “Which I’m obviously not doing,” muttered Clint sullenly.

            “That is because you are so worried about everything,” Phil responded knowingly. “Baby boy, look at me.” Phil helped him sit up so they could lock eyes. “Answer this, do you shoot an arrow better if you’re relaxed or if you’re under tension?”

            “That’s a trick question, battles are a lot of pressure,” objected Clint. Phil fixed him with a look. “I shoot better and more true when I’m focused and my body is relaxed.”

            “Exactly,” Phil cupped Clint’s face so that the young archer could not turn away. “You’re tense, you’re afraid, and you’re making mistakes because you are trying to hard.”

            “How do we fix that?” Clint asked, his eyes glossy, and his face pained with guilt.

            “We start tomorrow,” Phil pulled him in for a quick kiss. “Tonight, Tasha and I are going to take care of your needs, little boy. We are going to make sure you know that you are loved and wanted.” He allowed Clint to kiss him back, and he was a lot more passionate about making a move then Phil had been. Barton flicked his tongue across Coulson’s lips.

            “That sounds exciting,” Barton whispered his mouth still vying to kiss Phil, but was being cut off by Phil pulling away.

            “Yeah, you better enjoy it,” Phil uttered only inches away from giving Clint what he wanted. “Because tomorrow isn’t going to be a walk in the park.”

            Clint moaned, but could not waist time thinking about that now.

***

 

            “Have a nice nap, Palmer?” Gibbs asked as Palmer slid in through the sliding glass door. Jethro was at table, reading over some material that Phil had sent over via the data pad.

            Jimmy reached up to rub the back of his head. “Yeah, thanks for letting me sleep.”

            “You must have needed it,” Gibbs concluded looking back down at his notes. He hated technology, but there was no other option on this planet.

            “What’s for dinner, boss?” Jimmy inquired as he sat down across from the silver haired Marine.

            “I don’t know,” Gibbs replied honestly. “McGee put some kind of meat in the oven.”

            “Where are the others?” Jimmy looked around, surprised that he and Gibbs were alone.

            “Ziva is in the shower and I sent McGee to wake up Abby,” Jethro answered, throwing a glance in his direction. “Why do you ask Palmer?”

            “It’s just quiet.”

            Gibbs fixed him with a stare, trying to figure out what was making him so awkward. “You okay, Palmer?”

            Jimmy’s head shot up, not realized that he had been fidgeting. “Yeah, Sir. I’m just tired.”

            “Jimmy,” Gibbs reasoned. “You just slept all afternoon. How could you be tired?”

            “Didn’t sleep well last night,” Jimmy told him as he shifted in his seat. “New place. I don’t sleep well in new places.”

            Gibbs’ face softened. He could understand that. “You can tuck in early then,” Gibbs suggested folding his arms across his chest and leaning back. He expected Jimmy to lash back in rejection of the idea.

            Jimmy surprised him by agreeing. “Yeah,” he muttered. “That’s probably a good idea.”

            Jethro had to accept that his charges were inherently different. In a situation where Abby and Tony would object with a whine, McGee and Palmer would bow their heads, accept Gibbs’ word as law, and follow orders. Jethro smiled at the thought, it was like having a house full of kids with different personalities and mannerisms. In fact, his whole job had always been like this. He adjusted his expectations for his team based on who they were, living on Masoch De Sade did not change that.

            “Jimmy,” Gibbs pushed his chair back and patted his knee. “Come here.”

            “Boss?” Palmer looked at him perplexingly.

            “I’ve taken care of little Abby, I fucked Tony, McGee sat at my feet earlier, it’s time you get what you need from me,” Gibbs was speaking in a serious tone. “I’m not a professional on this or anything, but I’m guessing that you need me to be more of the kind of top for you that Abby has. A Daddy?”

            Jimmy still hadn’t gotten up from his seat. He was looking at Gibb’s open lap as if it was a snake that would bite him at any second.

            “I can make it an order, James,” Gibbs demanded as he raised his brow to challenge Jimmy into making him do it. Jimmy did not need further encouragement. He rounded the table and looked down at Jethro’s lap awkwardly. Gibbs did not give him a chance to make this harder then it was, he gripped his arm and pulled Palmer’s backside into his lap. The former Marine wrapped Palmer into a tight hug, and it only took a few second for Jimmy to relax and rest his chin on Gibb’s shoulder.

            “I miss Doctor Mallard,” Jimmy finally confessed.

            “You and me both, kid,” Jethro replied honestly as he began to rub the back of Palmer’s neck.

            “I’m not sure what I need, Sir,” Jimmy muttered into Jethro’s shirt. “I’m really confused by my feelings.”

            Gibbs could understand that. Hell, he was confused about everything that had changed between him and his team. He did a great job of hiding his confusion. Thank God for Phil, who had been a lifesaver. “Well…” Gibbs considered offering up a suggestion. “Can I tell you what I want from you?”

            Jimmy leaned back to look at him. They stared at each other for a long moment, before Jimmy nodded and laid his head back down.

            “McGee seems very interested in being my slave, Abby is my little girl, Tony is my brat,” Gibbs held Jimmy close. “I’m missing a boy, a little boy.”

            “Like the Daddy thing?” Jimmy confirmed with a hitch in his voice.

            “Only if you want that,” Gibbs told him, grinning as Jimmy started squirming again. It was hard to hold onto him, but Jethro enveloped him tighter.

            “It seems pretty silly,” Jimmy admitted. He was trying to wiggle himself off Jethro’s lap, but Gibbs was not having that.

            “Wanna tell me why?”

            Jimmy huffed and gave up, relaxing against Gibbs again. “Because… you did not see Abby and Kaylee and Ianto earlier.. they were like different people… like little kids.”

            Jethro chuckled at his assumption. He had seen them, while Jimmy had been passed out on the couch. “They are roleplaying, Palmer,” Gibbs tried his best to explain, based on the information that Phil had sent him. “It’s a fun game of pretend for them. They like the idea of being young and carefree, and a Top or a Daddy that will take care of them and make all the hard decisions.”

            Jimmy listened, but did not speak. 

            “I think that is what you want,” Gibbs deducted. “I saw that in you when you asked your question on Serenity. You wanted to be protected and cared for and not hurt emotionally. You need a Daddy more then Abby ever could. It’s a fun game to her, but for you…  it’s a need.”

            “I don’t know what I need,” pouted Jimmy.

            “Well, then,” Gibbs suggested. “Maybe we will try a few things and see what works for you.”          

            Jimmy could not argue with him. He had this hole in his heart since he saw the look in Clint’s eyes when they were on Serenity. He had longed to draw with Abby today. One that he was terrified to act upon.

            “Do you want to start tonight? Before bed?” Gibbs inquired. He pulled him back so he could look at his face when he answered. 

            “How do we start?” Jimmy asked quizzically.

            “Well, you’ll just have to trust me, won’t you?” Gibbs reached up to ruffle his already unruly hair.

            “Go hit the head,” Gibbs pushed him off his lap. “I’m going to go gather everyone for dinner.”

            Jimmy started to the bathroom.

            “James,” Gibbs called after him. “The correct reply is Yes Sir or Yes Daddy.”

            “Yes Sir Daddy Sir.” Jimmy saluted him. He smirked a little before Gibbs playfully chased him out of the kitchen.

            Within seconds, his kitchen was in chaos again. Abby and Tony were snapping hand towels at each other’s hindquarters. McGee was shouting at them to move as he pulled dinner from the oven. Ziva ignored them all, with her boots propped up on the kitchen table. Gibbs promptly pushed them off. When Jimmy emerged, his eyes were wide and he was obviously overwhelmed.

            “KNOCK IT OFF!” Gibbs bellowed and everyone went silent.

            He proceeded to assign seats at the table, which was a much more difficult task then you would imagine. Jimmy and Tony ended up sitting next to him, and he was confident that it would work out.

            Taking their seats, McGee began to serve dinner.  Gibbs decided to call it pot roast, because that was what it looked like. It did not smell like pot roast or taste like pot roast… but whatever it was, McGee had done a good job preparing it. McGee served Gibbs first and worked his way around the table, ending with Jimmy., Gibbs reached over to take Jimmy’s knife and fork into his hands. He worked at cutting the thick meat into smaller pieces.

            The cutlery sounds around the table stopped as they all looked at Jimmy and Gibbs with confusion. Jimmy’s face was burning with embarrassment. Abby was the first one to shrug it off before taking a bite of her food. The rest followed her example, and the moment passed without a word or another thought.

            Jimmy managed to mutter his thanks under his breath when Gibbs completed his task.

            “So,” Abby wiped her mouth clean. “We’re all-

            “Hey,” Tony was positioned so that he could look at the sliding glass window. He pointed with his fork towards the patio. Simon was wandering aimlessly around the pool. His hands were jammed into his pockets, and every few steps he would kick pitifully at one of the chairs.

            “We should invite him in,” Ziva told Gibbs pointedly.

            Gibbs was in agreement. No reason to ignore the boy. He was probably having just as many issues adjusting as they were. He dipped his chin once, and it was Abby who rushed to the door.

            “Simon! Come eat dinner with us!”

            Simon jumped at the sound of her voice. He pulled a hand from his pocket to wave at her nervously. “Hey! Thank you! But I’m just about to take a walk down to the beach!”

            “Can I go with him boss?”

            Jethro turned to look at McGee with a disapproving look. “Why would you want to do that?”

            “I’m not really hungry,” he poked the meat with his fork. “I want to make sure Simon is okay, and I… a walk on the beach would be a good time to think.”

            Gibbs knew what Timothy meant and what thoughts he planned to process on the sand. Softening, Gibbs granted him permission, and McGee left the table to join Simon, but not before dutifully putting his plate into the sink.

            “Can I join you?” McGee jogged to catch up with Simon.

            Simon had never talked to McGee, other then a few exchanged words. The both of them seemed to be the silent individuals in their group. Simon had no doubt that he would like McGee, but had yet to be alone with him. He had no reason to deny McGee the request to join.

            “Sure,” Simon answered, his hand still stuff in his pockets.

            McGee did not bother with words. He followed the doctor in respectful silence. Careful to not impose on Simon’s personal space and ignore the need to fill the awkward silence.  Together they made their way down the carved path that winded down the side of the mountain. Clearly, someone had put a lot of time into forging this walkway because steps were carved into the rock to descend slowly instead of at a steep angle, and there was an old, rusty rail that the boys grabbed a hold of at they walked.

            The path ended onto an old wooden pier, which jutted out into the waves, but McGee followed Simon off the side steps and onto the sand. Timothy paused at the bottom step before he kneeled down.

            “What are you doing?” Simon inquired as he rounded on Tim with a puzzled look.

            “You’ve never walked on the sand before?” asked Tim as he removed both his shoes and his socks. “You’re supposed to walk barefoot.”

            Simon’s mouth formed an _o_ as he realized what McGee was saying. He followed the lead of the NCIS agent, and left his shoes next to Tim’s on the bottom step. At first Simon grimaced at the grimy feeling between his toes, but each step toward the surf became easier. By the time he and McGee were standing in the tide, he had fallen in love with the squishing sand underneath his feet. The water washed the flakes of sand around them away and they suck a few inches. Simon laughed and pulled his foot out of the wet sand.

            “So what brings you out to the ocean?” McGee asked and he started walking down the beach ankle deep in the cool, salty water.

            “I could ask you the same thing,” Simon retorted, but he was to busy jogging through the surf for the first time—a smile painted on his face—for there to be any true animosity behind his words.

            “But I asked you,” Timothy called after him, smiling at how much Simon was acting like a kid would on his first trip to the beach.

            Simon shrugged. McGee had a fair point. He stopped knee deep in the water, not caring that the water was soaking his pants. “Just lots of things to think about.”

            Tim chuckled in spite of himself. There was always a lot to think about, especially since they entered this new world. “Are you having a hard time with Captain Renyolds?”       

            Simon did not turn around, just left his back facing McGee. He slumped a little, but then straightened his shoulders as he took in a deep breath, enjoying as the sea air filled his nostrils. “You didn’t hear?”

            “Hear what?” McGee could hear the sadness in Simon’s voice. He took a step towards him, to look at his face. Simon turned again.

            “Mal released me,” Simon said quickly. He started walking down the beach again, before McGee could react. Timothy stood in the there for a second until the words that Simon had uttered finally sank in. He chased after him, kicking up the water as he went.

            “You wanna say that again?” McGee did not want to believe what he just heard. He did not know the crew of Serenity very well, but it did not seem like Mal to abandon one of his own.

            “Yeah…” Simon stopped after he had left the water. He fell back onto the sand, staring out at the crashing waves. “He gave me to Phil and Jack, because I need someone in my life to make decisions.”

            Tim’s heart broke for Simon, though he was not sure why. Simon had not verbally expressed any anger or discontent with idea, but his body language and the hitch in his voice told him otherwise. Sinking down into the sand beside the dark headed doctor, Tim sighed. “And you’re not okay with that?”

            “They’re right,” Simon muttered. He fisted the sand idly. “I need someone,  I want that… just not with them.”

            “With Mal?” Tim offered gently.

            “Yes,” Simon let the sand fall from his fingers. “But, Mal isn’t able to provide. So Jack and Phil are good enough, right?”

            “No!” Timothy shouted instantly, glaring over at Simon. “It’s only right when it’s who you want to be with.”

            Simon held his glare for a few second. “How would you know?”

            “We’ll get to me in a minute,” McGee answer firmly. “If you’re not happy with Phil and Jack… then don’t put yourself through this.”

            “It’s not Phil and Jack!” Simon shouted, he threw a handful of sand towards the waves. “I want to have that relationship, they are good enough to do that. It’s the fact that Mal does not want it.”

            Timothy scrunched his face, trying to figure out a solution. “And you talked to Mal about your needs?”

            “Why would I?” Simon questioned, he pulled his knees up and rested his chin on them. “He got rid of me, that means he doesn’t want him.”

            McGee was not violent, but a sudden urge to punch Simon. “So you are making this decision without talking to Mal?”

            “It would not have changed the decision,” Simon promised Timothy. “I know Mal better then you.”

            “You would be surprised how this place changes people. I think it’s in the water,” He waited for Simon to laugh with him, but Simon either did not get the joke or did not care. McGee was left chuckling awkwardly; he cleared his throat before resuming his point. “I didn’t think I would want to be with Gibbs, but he surprised me. He approached me about changing our relationship. At first, I didn’t even think that I would want it… Gibbs knows us better than we know ourselves.”

            “Do you want to elaborate on what you’re talking about McGee?” Simon prodded, unable to make since of the other man’s sputtering.

            “Oh, right,” McGee traced his thoughts. “Gibbs told me today that I would make an excellent slave.”

            “A slave?” Simon looked at him with confusion.

            “Yeah,” McGee muttered, drawing in the sand. “I can’t explain it to you, actually neither could Gibbs. We need to do more research, but when he called himself Master… it… something in my heart… it felt…

            “Right?” Simon offered, a smile. “Like nothing else in the world would ever be good enough.”

            “Yeah. You know the feeling?” McGee asked, his face beaming.

            “It’s how I feel about Mal,” Simon told him sadly.

            “You really need to talk to Mal about it,” McGee scolded Simon again. “That was the first thing Phil told us. Was to communicate and be honest.”

            “Trust me, I’m weal aware of Phil’s rules on communication,” Simon countered with a role of his eyes. “Look, I’m going to stay out here a little while longer. You have to promise me that you won’t say anything about this conversation. I don’t want to be the cause of drama.”      

            “I can’t,” Tim said almost sadly. “I can’t lie to Gibbs.”

            “Don’t lie…” Simon retorted. “He won’t ask… just don’t volunteer the information.”

            McGee bit down on his lip nervously. Simon was his friend, and he understood the delicate situation that plagued him. If Timothy agreed to this, he was agreeing to lying to Gibbs by omission. He hated the thought of having that talk with Gibbs one day, but he hoped that Gibbs would understand.

            “Fine.” McGee stood up and brushed himself on. “I’ll keep your secret, but I don’t like knowing that you will be unhappy.”

            Simon looked up McGee, smiling at him. “Thanks McGee.”

            “Just take care of yourself,” McGee clapped the doctor on the back before sauntering back towards the pier to recover his shoes.

            Simon lay down, letting the sand cradle his head. He looked up at the dusky sky, a few starts starting to show in the sky. The sound of the waves in the background lulled him from stress. He could go home… except he did not have a home. Mal’s condo was not his home. Neither was Phil’s. Home seemed fine right here. He closed his eyes, letting all the sensations of the beach overcome him till he drifted into sleep.

           

            Gibbs watched McGee slink back in. The former marine eyed Timothy suspiciously as he automatically slunk over to the sink to help Abby with the dishes. With a shrug, Gibbs let it go. He trusted McGee to tell him if something was bothering him. Out of all of his charges, he trusted McGee the most.  He did not want to discredit the rest of his new family, but even with their new roles they were unlikely to come to him with a problem. Abby, maybe, but even she tried to solve all her issues by herself before she came to Gibbs. McGee was the only one that would fall into step behind Gibbs, and strive for perfection.

            Tonight, Gibbs had decided, he was going to set the precedent around here. Phil had sent him some very good material to read, and he felt very confident in his ability to establish roles within this house. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it right.

            “Family meeting!” Gibbs called when McGee put the last dish into the washer. He barked it loud enough for all of his team to hear. They trickled in slowly, Tony being the last one to saunter in. He was grinning, and about to say something cocky.

            Gibbs snapped his fingers and pointed to the empty space on the floor to the left of his feet. McGee had automatically filled up the position to the right. Tony looked at the floor, speechless, his arrogant thought came out in a sputter. Even with a slight hesitation, he sunk to his knees.  Gibbs patted his head, before looking up to address his team.

            “House Rules,” he began. Abby sat on the couch by Ziva, she drew her knees to her chest and rested her chin on them in anticipation. Jimmy, could barely make eye contact with any of them, he had sat himself in the loan chair in the corner. 

Ziva wore a look of complete indifference to the situation; her and Gibbs had already talked about her rules. She was, after all, a Top in this household. Together they had decided that she answered only to Gibbs, and if the time came for him to pull rank on her. He would do so in private. They also had decided that the “kids” needed rules. More importantly, Gibbs needed to set rules. He was taking on four different archetypes of submissive, if there were no boundaries then he would be trampled.

“Rule #1. I’m the boss.”

Tony snickered. He was a rewarded with a headslap. McGee chuckled at that, and he was also given the same dose of medicine. “Got issues with that boys?”

“No sir.” They bother hurried to reply.

“Didn’t think so,” Gibbs’ hands changed from chastising to comforting, as he set them on the back of the boy’s neck. “Rule Number 2. All the old rules...” He took a deep breath, as if this pained him to say. “Don’t apply anymore.”

“But some of those were really good rules,” Abby objected pouting at the thought of no longer having the list of Gibbs somewhat arbitrary list of rules.

“I know Abs, but we have new rules now.” Gibbs tried to speak in his most comforting tone. After barking orders for so many years, that was much harder then one might imagine.

“Rule Number 3,” He began again. “You better be asking, and you better be telling. We don’t have don’t ask don’t tell in this house. Everything is free game, and if you’ve got a problem, if it’s not out on the table in 24 hours, that’s grounds for punishment when I find out.”

Jimmy softly raised his hand from the corner. Gibbs nodded to call on him, finding it the behavior very adorable. “If we have a problem that we’re not ready to talk about yet, is it okay if we tell that we have a problem in the 24 hours but not really be able to elaborate because we need time to process things.”

Only Palmer could take a simple rule and complicate things. Gibbs grinned at him, maybe Tony would not be the one he had to worry about finding loopholes. “Case by case basis, but that sounds fine Jimmy.”

“Rule Number Four,” Gibbs continued. “House safe word is red. If you want to have your own safeword, you run it by me.”

They all nodded in agreement. “Rule Number Five. Don’t do anything stupid,” Gibbs cleared his throat to elaborate. “Take care of yourselves and each other. This isn’t like being at NCIS… the things that are dangerous here are different. Stick close to me or Phil or the other Dominants.”

He let the house rules sink in, they were simple, simple enough that they applied to everyone, including himself. “Now, these are basic rules,” said Gibbs, his fingers running through Tony’s hair. “Each of you has a different dynamic with me, and the specific rules within that relationship vary. I would never expect Jimmy to sit at my feet like I would Tony or McGee, for example. So as we go on and establish these relationships you’ll all have different rules to follow, but these house rules apply to each and everyone of you.”

            Once again they all collectively nodded. “Now, I’m not going to force any of you into a role you don’t want, but I’m going to work on getting each of you and myself comfortable with this. I’m starting tonight.” He heard Jimmy gulp. “Remember, only participate as far as your feel comfortable,” he added for Jimmy.

            “The orders I’m about to give are going to be the normal evening routines, they may change slightly, but not much,” Gibbs was standing up, but not before kissing Tony on the head.

            “Ziva,” he turned to the women. “You are free to go.” Ziva departed.

            “Abby,” he turned to the dark headed girl, who still had’t moved from her balled up position. Gibbs bent down, he knees cracking as he did. He spoke in a child friendly voice. “Do you want to take a shower like a big girl or do you want Daddy to help you?”

            Abby blinked at him before she bit her lip. “I don’t know.”

            Gibbs reached out to pat her cheek, before he used his thumb to remove her bottom lip from her teeth. “Don’t bite, Abs.”

            “Sorry Daddy,” she apologized with widened eyes.

            “It’s okay, Daddy needs you to make a decision, okay?” Jethro rubbed her knee reassuringly.

            “Can I take a bubble bath in your big tub?” Abby asked in a whisper. Gibbs felt a rush of relief pass over him, thankful that Abby was not going to fight this relationship with him.

            “Sure,” Gibbs said with a smile, he took her hand and helped her off the couch. “Daddy will be up soon to help you run the water.”

            “I can do it!” Abby was already skipping to the stairs.

            “Don’t you dare touch the faucet, Abigail,” Jethro called after her. He heard her whine as she climbed the stairs.

            “Jimmy…” He turned to the skinny boy in the corner. If Gibbs did not know better, he would say that Palmer was shaking.

            “Yes…” He swallowed. “Daddy?”

            “I don’t want you sleeping downstairs,” Jethro told him in a matter of fact tone as he moved to stand in front of Jimmy. “Tony will be sleeping in my bed most nights, how about we move you upstairs, closer to Daddy, hmm?”

            Jimmy nodded in agreement, still not speaking.

            “Do you need Daddy to help you or do you want to shower yourself?” inquired Jethro in the same tone he had used with Abby. He reached out to massage the boy’s shoulder gently.

            “I can take a shower.”

            Jethro had been expecting him to say this. “Sounds good buddy,” He patted the shoulder. “You go be a big boy and shower, I’ll come up to help you get dried off and dressed, brush your teeth, and get you tucked in? Is that a fair deal?” Jethro was not going to push him into anything, but he was going to firmly put the option on the table.

            “Okay Daddy.”

            Jethro was happy that Palmer agreed. It was a good step in the right direction. The silver headed marine sent Jimmy upstairs with a pat.

            “You two,” he turned to Tony and McGee who had not moved from their spots.

            “McGee, you are free to shower and get ready for bed as your please,” Gibbs instructed, he noticed that McGee looked a little crestfallen. “After I deal with Abby and Jimmy I will be done to set up your night time routine.”

            “Routine, Sir?” McGee question.

            “Of course,” Gibbs replied, crossing his arms. “You’re my slave. I expect you to maintain a certain standard of hygiene. Also, I want you to spend a few minutes each night at my feet. Just you and me.”

            McGee felt his cheeks blushing. He rose from his spot and scurried down the steps to prepare for his Master.

            “You, baby boy,” Jethro said with a wicked grin. He pulled Tony up from the ground and into his arms.  “Are mine. All you need to do is make sure you’re well prepared for me to fuck that tight ass of yours, and I will take it every night for as long as you wear my collar.”

            Tony moaned behind the kiss that Jethro pressed into his lips. “Also, I think I like your ass always having a red color to it. So anytime I feel like it’s not pink enough, guess what?”

            He didn’t give Tony time to answer, before he expertly tipped the man forward and wrapped an arm around his waist, leaving his swinging arm free. Tony was wearing slacks, so the swats hurt Jethro’s hand more than it stung the younger man’s ass. He appeased Jethro and cried out for theatrics. “Ouch! Ow! Oohh!”

            Jethro laughed at his fake hysterics, before letting him go. “I’m going to take care of Abby and Jimmy.” Jethro kissed him a final time before parting with a farewell swat.

            The smile dropped from his lips as quickly as it had come when he entered his master bathroom. He took a second glance at the scene before him, before he shouter. “Abigail!”

            Abby whirled around, practically in sobs by this time. “I didn’t mean too! It was an accident!”

            Jethro scoffed. Of course, it was an accident. No one would overflow a garden tub with bubbles and hot water. He reached his hand into the scalding hot water to find the faucet. He turned it off, wondering how Abby had managed to get the water such an extreme temperature. Fumbling around he found the drain and released the plug. Once the sound of water running through the pipe confirmed that no more water would spill into the floor, he stood up. His arm was dripping; he reached up to grab a towel. Wiping his hands quickly, he tossed it on the puddle on the floor. Using his foot to soak up the sudsy water he wiped back and forth till he was satisfied. Then, and only then after he had counted to 20 at least a dozen times, he rounded on Abby with a frown.

            “Did I or did not tell you to wait for me?”

            Abby slunk backwards to the sink, her hands automatically moving behind her to protect herself from the impending discipline. “You were taking a long time… I thought I could help.”

            “Instead you made a mess,” Jethro corrected her firmly. He watched her gasp and the tears start to well up in her big hazel eyes. He sighed, before he threw an arm around her neck to pull her into him before she started wailing.

            “Sorry…” She whispered into his chest, her fingers gripping fistful of his shirt.

            “I know you’re sorry, Abs,” Gibbs spoke to her soothingly. “But you still disobeyed, and we have to do something about that.”

            “Please don’t spank me!” She cried frantically remembering their conversation at Mal’s kitchen table earlier. “It wasn’t super naughty.”

            “I don’t know, Abs,” Gibbs countered, holding her at arms length so he could look at her firmly. “You deliberately disobeyed an order. What if I had given you an order that could have saved your life, would you have ignored it too? No, Abby, I can’t have that behavior in our house.”

            Abby was whimpering as she attempted to squirm away from Gibb’s grasp, but he held her tightly.  “I wouldn’t do it if it was something that big,” she tried to reason with him in a squeaky voice.

            “I know you wouldn’t Abby,” he assured her, trying to be gentle. “But in our house there are consequences for bad behavior. You know that right?”

            Gibbs had always known that Abby would be the first that would cause him to put his foot down so hard. He would never say that this was easy for him, but he had expected it. In fact, he was aware that Abby must have known exactly what she was walking into when she turned on the faucet.

            “No bath tonight,” he kissed the top of her head before sending her towards the bathroom door. “Go get ready for bed, I’ll be in soon to deal with this.”

            Abby’s waterworks started, as Gibbs had expected. He turned a deaf ear to her sobs as she left. He shook his head and chuckled at the situation. Of course it would have been Abby. Of course it was Abby that went over the cliff first. Who had he expected? Palmer.

            Speaking of Jimmy, he needed to go take care of the boy next. As he walked to the bathroom, he heard Abby in her bedroom. He peaked in to check on her. She was speaking to her pillow, half dressed in pajamas.

            “I think Daddy is mad. I should not have done that. Now he’s going to spank me. I’m not really scared of Daddy… I’m scared of the spanking. It’s going to be ouchies.”

            Gibbs chuckled at her child like behavior. As he pulled her door closed, the door across from him also opened and shut. Jimmy emerged into the hallway, his lower half wrapped in a towel.

            “Hey buddy,” Gibbs greeted him. “Did you get clean?”

            “Yeah…” He muttered meekly stopping a couple of steps outside his new bedroom.

            Gibbs closed the space between them easily. Gripping Jimmy’s chin in his cupped hands, turning the boys face side to side he examined his damp curls, his ears, and lifted to look at his neck. Giving a grunt of approval as he slid his hand down to the small of Jimmy’s back to direct him into the room.

            Gibbs directed Jimmy to sit on the bed while he browsed the room for the appropriate clothing. All the rooms were stocked with clothes for all genders and occasions. Jethro had found a three-piece suit hanging in his closet. In this room there were regular dress wear; shorts, shirts, and shoes. Nothing too ornate, most of it play and ordinary.             He pulled a navy blue t-shirt off the hanger after he had scooped up a pair of light blue boxer briefs. He would eventually need to go shopping for all the things he would need, but for right now this would do.

            Returning to Jimmy, he sat the items on the bed. As he helped Jimmy stand up, he reached for the towel. Jimmy slapped his hand away.

            “James…” Gibbs said gruffly.

            “You said you wouldn’t make us do things we don’t want,” Jimmy muttered hurriedly, his fingers gripping into the towel and trying to pull it tighter around his waist.

            “I did,” Gibbs agreed, reaching for the towel one more time. “And you haven’t used your safe word, so I’m just going to assume that you’re being stubborn and you need me to be a little more firm.”

            Jimmy made a desperate whimpering noise as the towel dropped off his hips the floor and the cool touched his damp body. Gibbs clicked his tongue, “You should dry off better little boy.” He whirled Jimmy around and began to massage the rough towel over his backside. Palmer’s breath hitched, but he did not safeword.

            Jethro surprised him with a swat to the now dry flesh. Jimmy jumped onto his tip toes.

            “That was for pushing my hands way, you don’t smack Daddy away,” Jethro lectured firmly as he reached for boxer briefs.

            “S-s..sorry Daddy.”

            “Good boy. Now step in.” Jethro knelt so that he could hold them open for Jimmy’s feet. Once the order had been obeyed, Jethro worked the boxers up the boys legs and over his hips.

            “Now…” Jethro grabbed the hem of his own shirt and pulled it over his head.

            “Daddy?” Jimmy asked in concern.

            “Don’t little boys always want to sleep in their Daddy’s shirts?”           

            Jimmy paused for a moment, staring at the shirt in Gibbs’ hands. Then he looked up to meet his eyes. There was a rush of air as Jimmy flung himself on Jethro’s chest, tears pouring out from behind his glasses.

            “I’m sorry, I’m really bad at this. You’re trying so hard.”

            Jethro dropped the shirt as his arms instinctively enveloped the skinny boy. “You’re doing just fine, buddy.” Jethro whispered soothingly into the wet, curly hair.  “Just fine.”

            “You wouldn’t say that unless you had to…” Jimmy cried into Gibbs bare chest.

            “I don’t lie to my team, boy,” Gibbs grunted, but didn’t let Jimmy out of the hug. “You’re doing good. You’re a good boy.”

            They stood there for a long moment with Jimmy crying and Gibbs just holding him. That was what Jimmy needed, was someone to tell him that he was good. He was not like Tony who got his reassurance from bratting and Gibbs putting him back in place, nor was he like McGee who found his happiness in servitude, and there was no one like Abby who found satisfaction in just being cute. No, Jimmy needed to be loved, and he needed to be told that he was loved. Gibbs knew that from the start, he had always known it. Since the day that Jimmy started to awkwardly fit in with his team. Jimmy wanted to be appreciated and needed. So, Gibbs did just that. He held him for as long as Jimmy wanted. In fact, when Jimmy made an attempt to pull away, Gibbs refused to release him until the last of his sobs had subsided.

            “You good, buddy?” Jethro asked as he held Jimmy at arms length and watched him rub his eyes. Jimmy managed a nod. “Now… do you want to wear Daddy’s shirt to bed or the other shirt?”

            Jimmy reached back and picked up the shirt that Gibbs had just peeled off. It wasn’t too dirty, Jethro had on put it on this evening before dinner, but he knew there would be a slight lingering of him on the shirt, and that would comfort the boy. Right?

            He took of Jimmy’s glasses and set them on the nearby table before he slipped the shirt over Jimmy’s head. Jimmy awkwardly put his arms in as Gibbs held the shirt. When it was done, the Marine pulled the hem down to his waist.

            “There you go, all ready for bed,” Jethro rubbed his shoulders soothingly, after he pulled the spare shirt on his own body. He stepped to the head of the bed to fold down the covers, Jimmy climbed in without being told. Once the sheet was pulled up to his chin, Jethro ran his hand over the boy’s head. “Stay in bed, get some sleep, and don’t worry about Abby.”

            “Abby?” Jimmy shot up a puzzled look.

            “She is getting a bedtime spanking,” Gibbs told him, not needed to spare the details. He was certain that Jimmy would hear it.  Jethro watched Jimmy’s breath catch in his chest, the thought of a spanking terrified him. Jethro patted his cheek again, before flipping off the bedside light. “Sleep, James.”

            It wasn’t a request. It was command. Jimmy only hoped his body would comply.

            Gibbs had two more of his charges to deal with. He knocked on Abby’s door. “Abby,” he said firmly. “You need to spend some time thinking about your behavior.” He stuck his head into the room piercing the dark headed girl with a look. She was folded up on the bed, waiting for him. Jethro pointed to an empty corner. “Nose in it till I get back.”

            Abby pouted as she pushed herself off the mattress, but she offered no argument or plea for forgiveness. Jethro gruffly nodded in satisfaction as Abby assumed a position with her face to the wall. “Think about why you need to obey me,” Gibbs instructed. “Think about why Daddy gives your orders and why it’s important to follow them.”

            “Yes Daddy.” He heard her whisper before he closed the door to descend into the basement.

            Timothy was at the sink running a towel through his hair when Gibbs entered the room. He sat on the edge of the well-made queen sized bed as he peered into the bathroom.

            “I’ll be out in a minute, Sir,” McGee told him, reaching to close the door between them.

            “Leave it open.”        

            McGee’s hand rested on the wood for a long second, before it dropped obediently to his side. The color rushed to his cheeks as his big eyes widened, but he did not audibly question Gibbs’ order. He turned back to the sink to snatch up a toothbrush. Gibbs did not take his eyes off his new submissive while he continued to go through his nighttime routine. McGee spit and rinsed, before shooting Gibbs a pleading looking. Jethro raised an eyebrow, before he snapped his fingers, denying the silent plea. No words were needed.

            The snap made McGee jump, but he shuffled over to the commode. He glanced around his shoulder one more time. Gibbs was unrelenting with his look. McGee’s lips formed into a half pout as he aimed his cock at the bowl. He closed his eyes, willing himself to piss. He had never had stage fright at a urinal in the bathroom at work, but then again it was an unstated man rule that you didn’t look. Gibbs was definitely looking, Tim could feel the cold eyes burning on his skin. His body relaxed and relieved himself, much to his chagrin. He scooped up the silk boxers as he passed the dress and walked towards Gibbs.

            Gibbs did not offer him words. He snapped again, pointing to the floor in front of him. Timothy did not hesitate this time, he dropped to his knees in a split second. Gibbs smiled approvingly. 

            “Head down, on the floor, get comfortable,” Gibbs instructed as he pushed gently on Tim’s neck. He watched Tim’s lovely, boyish face disappear into the carpet, and he shuffled his legs to even his weight. “Good.” Gibbs let him know simply that was what he wanted. Then he let Timothy kneel in silence. Every few minutes, Gibbs would stroke his fingers up and down McGee’s spine to remind him that this was their moment of silence.

            McGee was happy. His whole body was relaxed and subdued. This was his place. At the feet of Leroy Jethro Gibbs, and no one could tell him otherwise. There was something so powerful about this simple gesture, and the silence made it more real. McGee was able to focus on Jethro only, if he shut everything else out he could hear Jethro breath, he could hear his body rising and falling in a natural rhythm. The discomfort of the carpet and the blood rushing to his head was forgotten as his brain focused on what it needed too, the only thing that it would ever need to focus on again; his Master.

            “Kneel up,” Jethro ordered after nearly ten moments of complete stillness. Timothy did as instructed, his head still bowed in submission. Gibbs reached forward to take his chin firmly, tilting his head up. “You’re going to be a good slave,” he told him without any hesitation. “We are going to work on this together.”   

            “Yes…” Timothy struggled with his words.

            “Sir works for now,” approved Jethro with a nod. “Now dress for bed. We’ll work on some nighttime protocols for you tomorrow, okay?” Gibbs was less gentle with Timothy then he was the rest of his charges. Abby and Jimmy needed tenderness, Tony was a slut and just need to be touched, but McGee got his pleasure from service. It was not to say that McGee did not need reassuring touches, they were just fewer and far between. So Gibbs parted from him with a quick kiss to the top of his head. “Good night, Timothy.”

            “Good night, Sir.”

            He said goodnight to Ziva, taking his time before going up to Abby. He really wanted her thoughts to do most of the work. Discipline was only effective if the individual understood why they were receiving the consequences.  He was quite sure that by the time he was standing in Abby’s doorway watching her fidget nervously, that the time to think had done its job.

            “Alright, lets get this over with baby girl,” Jethro announced. He was rolling up the cuffs of his sleeve as he made his way over to her bed. She turned to stare at him, but did not leave the safety of corner. Not yet.

            Jethro gave her a minute, before he beckoned her over. “Come her Abs.”

            She did—slowly—dragging her feet all the way to his side. She looked down at him with a sad expression, her eyes swimming with tears already.

            “Got anything you want to say from your time in the corner?” Gibbs asked, taking her shaking hands into hers.

            “Yes…” She bit her lip nervously. Gibbs reached up and plucked it out of her teeth for the second time that night.

            “Go ahead,” He prompted.

            “I should do what you say,” Abby mumbled shifting from one bare foot to the other. “Because your instructions are there to protect me and keep me from doing the wrong things.”

            Gibbs nodded with her words, his thumb rubbing back and forth on her wrist as a gesture of reassurance. “At NCIS, you would have never questioned an order, you were not even my agent, and you know that sometimes my order kept you from getting hurt. It’s the same thing here, Abs. I’m not giving your rules and instructions to be mean, I’m doing it to keep you safe. Tonight was not a big deal, turning the water and letting it overflow isn’t a serious situation, but the fact that you did after I explicitly told you not too is what disappointed me.”

            Abby faced wrinkled in sadness. She hated the thought of making Gibbs disappointed. A tear slid down her pale cheek.           

            “Now its time to tell the truth, Abby,” Gibbs scolded her, squeezing her wrists as a reminded of his paternal presence. “That was completely out of character for you. You know that and I know that. You did that to test me, didn’t you.”

            Abby squeaked before her shoulders slumped. Abby did not have to answer the question, Gibbs knew the answer from her reaction, but she was a good girl and a solitary answer slipped from her tightened lips. “Yes.”

            “Are you regretting that decision yet?” Gibbs inquired his face turning into a no nonsense frown.

            “No,” Abby answered honestly, looking away. “But I’m sure I will when you are actually… you know… spanking me.”

            “That is the intent.” Jethro was done talking now. Without ceremony he pulled Abby down onto his thighs. He took some time to adjust her, letting her upper body rest on the soft quilt and her feet stretch out behind her. She fit amazingly well, like she was a little girl meant to be across her Daddy’s lap for a sound spanking. Gibbs nodded when he found a comfortable position for them both, wrapping a hand around her waist to secure her, and then he began.

            He knew that Abby would not be like Tony. There was nothing stoic or determined about her reaction; she started crying from the first slap to her pajama-clad bottom. Gibbs found a rhythm, wrapped his arm tightly, and focused on the task ahead.

            Meanwhile Abby was sputtering nonsence. Her words were muffled into the blanket, but Gibbs often made out an apology or a plea. A few times she even tried to rationalize her behavior with him, but never a safe word. Gibbs was listening intently for it.

When it didn’t come, he hooked a finger into the elastic waistband of her pants. They were not think, it was not like they were offering her much protection or hurting his hand, but Gibbs intended to make a point. She pushed him, and he was going to put a stop to that behavior before it got out of control. Her panties were purple with silver stars on them. Very appropriate for a little girl, Gibbs thought to himself. They were riding up from her wiggling and squirming, and Jethro was happy that he could see most of the meaty part of her bottom was already a light shade of pink. Not surprise, she was pale. It would not take a lot to bruise her delicate skin. That did not stop him from crisply smacking the cheek closest him with a firm palm.

            The loss of her pants and the sting of skin to skin contact renewed her tears. She pleaded louder and begged harder for Gibbs to cease. Jethro turned a deaf ear. His slaps were alternating from check to cheek now, focusing on the fleshy part of her bottom where she sat. He aimed at that target for quite a few strokes, before he returned to peppering the whole of her backside.

            “I don’t want to have this discussion again, Abigail,” He lectured, but he was almost certain that they would.

            Abby was out of fight. Her squirming had ceased, and all she could do was nod and grip the bedsheets tightly. “So…sorry…”

            “I know you are,” Jethro finished the spanking with a dozen well-aimed shots to her thighs. Abby screeched and kicked her feet up. Then it was over. Gibbs was rubbing her back in soothing circles as she lay across his lap sobbing.

            He let her cry for a few minutes, trying to quiet her with soft hums as he continued to rub her back. “Here, sit up and hold me tight,” he instructed as he helped her off the bed. She did not have to told twice, Abby practically jumped into lap and wrapped her hands around his neck. Her sobs resumed into the crook of his neck. The shirt he had just taken out of Jimmy’s closet soaked up her tears and snot. Jethro smiled at the thought, rocking back and forth to comfort his distressed little girl.

            “You gonna be okay, Abs?”

            “I’m crying because…” She sucked in breath, her only frame shaking. “Cause you are disappointed in me, cause I pushed you.”

            “Hey hey hey….” Jethro put a finger to her lips. “Enough of that. I was disappointed in your behavior; I’ve taken care of that. You’re forgiven.”

            “But I still pushed you… I shouldn’t have done that.”

            “No,” Jethro agreed with a nod. “But that’s okay. If you need to push to get what you need, then I will push back, alright?”

            Abby shook her head up against his chest. “Thank you Daddy Gibbs.”

            “You’re most welcome sweetheart.” Standing up with Abby easily in his held in his arms, he turned to the bed to place her head on the pillows. Bending down, he pulled the pants off her feet to toss them on the floor. Abby had already rolled over onto her stomach when he pulled the covers over her.

            “I’m right across the hall if you need me,” Gibbs reminded her. She nodded again, her crying only tiny little sniffles. Gibbs bent down and kissed the top of her bangs. “Love you Abs.”

            “Love you too, Gibbs.”

            Gibbs flipped the light off, blew his little girl a kiss, and shut the door. All of his responsibilities were safe, happy, and tucked into bed. He glanced down at his watch; all in less then an hour. He still had time to fuck Tony. This Dominant thing was easier then he thought.

           

 

           

             

             


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. My apologies. I went on Thanksgiving break, had some drama with my family (yay) and then I had a quick surgery. So this chapter seems a bit rushed to me, and it's also shorter then what I usually write.   
> 2\. Probably the worst edited by far. No beta, and I'm still trying to recover from surgery so... I miss more then usual.  
> 3\. I need feedback and plot bunnies. I started another fic that I have been really focused on, but I don't want to abandon this one. So keep the earworms coming.  
> 4\. Usually warnings apply... go back and read them if you forgot.

                        There were a lot of things that Mal did not like about this planet, but the never-ending source of hot water was not one of them. Who knew how long he had been in the shower, but it seemed that the water was just as warm now as it was when he stepped him. Showers were a luxury in space travel, if you got one there was no telling if it would be warm and how long it would last. Most of the time the water turned ice cold in the middle of washing your hair. Not this. This was a little slice of heaven.

He let his back press up against the wall and the water run down his body as his mind drifted off. What was he going to do with his life? His crew? He had already abandoned one of them. No, not abandoned. He was still here for Simon, just not in the way that Simon needed. Neither one of them had wanted that. He recognized Simon’s need for Phil and Jack in his life, and Mal had done exactly what needed to be done. Hadn’t he? Then why was he taking a several hour-long shower and wallowing with his own self-hatred.

Heaving a sigh, Mal turned off the water. He reached outside the curtain for the towel, grabbed it, and began to wipe the water off his face.

He wasn’t giving up on Simon was he? Had he been too quick to take the words of Kaylee seriously? No, Simon had been willing and eager to go. If that was the case, why did the good captain still doubt his choices?

Throwing back the curtain, he stepped onto the cold tile. “Jesus!”

He was surprised to see River in the bathroom, curled up in a small ball. She had pulled all the spare towels off the rack and was using them as a pillow. She locked eyes with him from her position on the floor. “Hi.”

Mal choked back his surprise, but figured the girl meant no harm by stalking him in the bathroom. “Whatcha doing on the bathroom floor little Albatross? Should’t ya be in yer bed.”

“The sounds,” River said simply, not lifting her head from the pillow. “And the steam. It makes me calm.”

Mal accepted her answer with a confused shake of his head. He could only assume that she was talking about the shower sounds. He moved past her towards the sink.

“It’s okay to make mistakes.” River spoke into the air as if speaking to no one. “You can apologize and take it back. Take him back.”

“Who, yer brother?” Mal whirled around on her with a raised eyebrow at her.

This time she did not answer. She collected her ‘pillows,’ placed them on the counter, and started to the door. “Fix it.” And with that, she left him.

“Great…”  Mal muttered to himself. The psychic offers him advice and it makes him doubt himself even more. Bending over the sink, he watched the water rush down the drain to places unknown. He felt like the water, circling the drain, about to rush into something and never come back.

Could she be right? Did he need to fix things with Simon?  He yawned… whatever he did, he needed good nights rest to think about it. Dropping the towel from his waist he slid into the soft, silk sheets of his gigantic bed.

“Mal.”

He was about to drift into a relaxing and escaping sleep when he heard the soft, feminine voice from his doorway. Sitting up half way, he squinted into the darkness.

“Kaylee? Ain’t you supposed to be in bed?”

The door squeaked as she shuffled in. “You know that Simon ain’t back yet, right?”

Mal was rubbing his eyes before he reached over to flip on a bedside lamp. He groaned as the light hit his eyes, but it helped him put the small, engineer in focus. “Probably bunking over at Phil’s place.”

Kaylee bit her lip and shook her head; she took a tiny step forward to the end of the bed. “I think he ain’t coming back?”

“What?” Mal pulled his hand down his face in exhaustion. “Of course he’s coming back. He won’t leave the girl.”

“Promise you ain’t gonna spank me and I’ll tell you?”

Mal rolled her eyes skyward, prayed to whatever power that would answer him. All he wanted to do was sleep. “Kaylee, it’s the middle of the night. I just wanna sleep. I’ll spank you in the morning.” He fell back on the pillow, hoping it would appease her.

“I didn’t exactly tell ya the truth earlier,” Kaylee muttered, her finger was drawing circles on corner of the bedspread. “I wasn’t thinking quite straight… I told you that he was sick of you and didn’t want ya no more, I don’t think I said it right.”           

He was laying on his back and staring at the ceiling as he listened to her speak. Finally she said something caught his attention, sitting up he fixed her with a glare. “What exactly did ya mean, Kaywinnet?”

“I think I misunderstood,” she kicked at the bed nervously. “I think he wanted you to be his…” She hesitated before giving Mal a title. “…person.”

Mal was trying to put things together, he rubbed his temples in confusion. “Yer telling me mean, I made a move based on yer intel, and it was wrong… and he didn’t dare speak up?” The prospect of spanking butts seemed more and more a likeable one. Though, he could not entirely blame the younger members of his crew too. Mal knew that he should have done more to make his relationship with Simon work, he was overcome by his own feelings of guilt.

“I ain’t going to spank you, munchkin,” Mal finally said, and visibly saw her relax. “You and yer Momma and I are gonna have a long chat about telling the truth when you are in yer little space.”

“Can I sleep with you?”

“Huh?” Mal looked at the empty space beside him, before looking back at Kaylee. “Kaylee… ya just can’t….” He paused to think about her request for a few second. I would not matter, anything that happened between them was extremely platonic. “Sure, kid. Lemme get some pants on, okay?”

Kaylee had jumped up on the bed before he could wrap the sheet around his lower half to find some pants in the bathroom. She was snuggled up on the pillow half asleep when he returned. Mal could not help but smile at her peaceful, sleepy smile. Just a few days ago, he would have been extremely disturbed out by the idea of Kaylee in his bed for any reason. Now, it seemed normal. There world had flipped over, turned around, and changed more then he could have ever imagined.

Crawling back into bed, he flipped off the light. Kaylee snuggled closer to him as he laid on his back on the pillow, he protectively wrapped an arm under him. He liked having Kaylee close to him, so he knew that she was safe. He only wished, at the moment, he could say that about his wayward Doctor, and that thought kept him awake most of the night.

 

Clint Barton had been awake for sometime now. The sun had just been creeping in through the curtains when he had roused from slumber. Now the room was well lit by the early morning sun, and Clint was able to see the invisible force that kept him anchored to the bed. On either side of him was a sleeping lover, and he was glued to them by the feeling of skin-to-skin contact. To his left Phil was laying on his back snoring, one arm was thrown clumsily above his head and the other was underneath Clint’s neck holding his lover close to his warm, shirtless body.  Clint was instantly comforted by the sound of his deep breaths. Clint’s head rose on Phil’s chest as there was a raspy intake of the cool, morning air and then he fell with the purposeful, strong exhale.  On his right, her body spooned up against his back, was his beautiful, Russian female lover. Clint could feel her warm, delicate breath on the back of his neck, her breath in sync with Phil’s. Her arm was snaked around his waist, her fingers hooked into the waistband of the briefs he had not remember slipping on last night. The other was above his head on the pillows, her fingers only inches from Phil’s occasionally twitching hand. Clint assumed that they had fallen asleep with their fingers intertwined above his head. Between Phil and Clint, Natasha always ended up with a lack of cover, and this morning was no exception. In fact, Clint liked the way the sheet was a teasing curtain on her pale skin, hiding all her private parts, but dancing provocatively close to exposing them.

            Last night had been heaven, he had not thought that anything could get better then the sex the three of them had. This was better. There were no words in human language that could describe the feelings that one felt when they slept like this. Clint pressed a kiss Phil’s chest before he wiggled tighter into Natasha’s spoon.

            Phil stirred, but did not open his eyes.

            “Morning Pup.”

            “Good Morning Sir.”

            Tasha moaned as she heard their voices. The next thing Clint felt was Natasha planting a kiss on his shoulder blade. He echoed her moan, despite his attempt to be silent.            

            “Good Morning to you too, Tasha,” Phil heard the kisses that Natasha was pressing into Barton’s back.

            “доброе утро.”

            Clint both loved and hated to hear Natasha speak in her native language. It reminded him of the exotic, sensual part of their relationship. She often whispered sweet pillow talk in Russian, or secrets to Phil and Clint that she wanted to keep from the world. The part that Clint hated was the part that Natasha hated about herself, her secrets and her past life. There was a part in all three of them that cringed when they heard her speak in Russian, because it reminded them of her soulless, loveless past identity.

            Clint felt Phil reach out to put his fingers in Tasha’s bed head curls.

            “Are you ready for the day, Pup?” He changed the subject quickly enough.

            Whatever arousal Tasha had kicked up in the pit of his stomach fled. He had not quite forgotten about Phil’s promise from last night, but he had hoped the morning after bliss would last longer. This was Phil he was talking about. When the man made a promise, he always kept it. Very punctually for that matter.

            “If I said no would that change your mind?” Clint pressed his body tighter on top of Phil, hoping to pin the older man to the bed.

            Tasha shook with a chuckle as she began to peel herself off of Clint. Phil was smiling too. “Nope.”

            “Yeah… didn’t think so.” Clint muttered into Phil’s chest. He pouted harder as Phil slid out from underneath of him. The bed felt empty and cold without them. He pulled the sheet up over his head and groaned.  If he could not avoid this day in between the two of loves his life, maybe he could hide here.

            No such luck. Phil had pulled the sheet off his body, and was standing over the bed him with his arms crossed. He had slipped on a pair of lounge pants and a grey t-shirt. Not his normal suit and tie attire, and Clint always took a second to gawk at him when he dressed so casually. Tasha was slipping on a pair of silk underwear. She did not bother with a bra, so when she pulled down her blouse her lovely breasts hung freely and comfortably. Clint watched her ass as she walked to the bathroom. Phil cleared his throat to get his attention.

            “How do you expect me to go from post sexual bliss to the worst day of my life,” Coulson whined as he climbed off the bed and towards the older man.

            “Like this.”

            Before his feet had even hit the floor, Phil had yanked him up by the arm, sat down on the bed, and was bodily maneuvering Clint over his lap. “Nothing like a morning spanking to get your head in the right place.”

            Phil was in a no-nonsense mood, as he usually was when there was a lesson to be learned. There was no warm up and Phil did not even offer him the luxury of his briefs, he merely swooped them down Clint’s legs and off. Clint mentally said goodbye to his clothes, he knew that seeing them today would be a miracle.           

            The spanking began in earnest. Phil’s hand rising and descending at such a rapid pace that Clint had no time to process between spanks. If he wanted to cry out from Phil’s harsh hand he was unable because stroke after stroke fell before he could even think about reacting. Clint recalled all the times in their relationship that Phil had been so merciless and relentless, they were few and far between, and he had always honestly earned his Dominants displeasure. Today was no different; Clint had a clear picture of how the rest of his day might pan out.

            Chomping down on his lip, he felt Tasha’s presence in the room again. He watched her through squinted eyes as she rounded the corner of the bed. If this had been a pleasant occasion, Tasha would have touched him. She would have whispered seductively in Russian as she ran her beautiful, slender fingers through his hair.  She kneeled down so that her face was next to his. To his surprise, she did touch him, but only to loop her fingers in the base of his hairline tightly and jerked his neck up to meet her beautiful, glaring eyes.

            “This is not just between you and Phil,” she growled into his ear. Clint moaned, even with the painful fire that Phil continued to light in his ass. “Doubting this relationship means you doubt me, and I don’t like to be doubted.” If possible, she gripped his hair tighter as Phil spanked harder. He apparently did not like being doubted either.

            Clint was near tears. Tasha let him go none to gently as she stood up. Clint dropped his face into the mattress in despair. 

            “The things are prepared in the bathroom.” With that announcement she kicked his legs apart with her foot. Phil followed her movements and adjusted his body so that Clint lay over his lap his lower half spread open wide. Clint did cry out now, knowing what Tasha’s words meant, knowing what Phil was about to do. The archer’s lips formed a please, but it was a scream that left his mouth and not begging.

            Phil was no longer spanking his red ass cheeks. With his new position that Tasha had arranged, Phil’s fingertips were smacking the white un-punished flesh of his crack. He tried to close his legs, but he was met with Natasha’s strong thigh. Clint was not a begger, but what Phil was about to do next made he plead like a child each and every time.

            Something wooden slapped against his exposed hole. A ruler? A spoon? Clint couldn’t be sure, he could only be sure that Tasha was a sadistic bitch and had handed Phil the implement. How Phil managed to keep Clint from bucking off of his lap and continue spanking was one of the mysteries of the world, but he always seemed out power the younger man even when Clint really started to fight.

            “Knock that off, boy,” Phil’s voice was deadly, and he stopped spanking long enough to reposition Clint. “You’re going to make this worse.”

            Clint could hardly believe that. Nothing was worse then your Dominant spanking your asshole. What was he saying… there was plenty of worse. The rest of the day was filled with worse.

            “This is just a warm up on your hole, boy,” Phil lectured as he resumed using the slender stick to swat at Phil’s tight ring. “It’s mine. You’re mine. I told you that I would make that abundantly clear to you. I won’t have anymore of your nonsense.”

            Clint could only shake his head in desperation. “Please… please… stop.”

            “Stop?” Phil questioned, an evil smirk in his tone. He answered the boys plea with more spanking. “Do you make that call?”

            “No Sir!” Clint wailed. His toes rose and fell, each and every time he tried to kick his legs up, Tasha’s hand was there to swat them back down. He even made the pitiful attempt to throw his hands back. Phil chuckled at the despair in the action, before he paused long enough to roughly toss Clint’s wrists back above his head. “Do that again, boy and the consequences won’t be pleasant.”

            The irony of that statement made Clint groan inwardly. Nothing about the current situation was pleasant. How could it get worse? Phil lifted him onto his feet and directed him to their adjoining bathroom. He really should stop asking himself that question.

            Then like that it was over. Phil was helping him off his lap gingerly. Tasha remained behind him, helping to steady Clint as he wobbled from the sudden change of position. Phil used his thumb to wipe the dampness from Clint’s scarlet face, and then gripped on to his upper arm firmly.

            Clint allowed himself to be directed bodily into the bathroom. He saw the things that Tasha had prepared and he mewled like a terrified child. Phil either did not notice, or ignored him, as he pushed the boy in front of the commode.  Reaching around, he took Clint’s cock in to his large palm. Clint could not help but contrast the roughness in his fingertips compared to the tenderness that had held him last night. “Piss.”

            At one point Clint would have been more embarrassed by this, but he realized its purpose. He knew exactly why Phil was aiming his stream into the toilet bowl. Phil had literally taken all control from Clint, and the fact humiliated him, excited him, terrified, and aroused him all the same time.

            Phil shook him in his hands before flushing. Tasha had followed them in the bathroom, and Clint found that to be the most embarrassing part. Generally, the red headed Russian took her leave on days that Phil felt that Clint needed a good reminder. Not today. Today she was going to witness every moment of Phil defiling, humiliating, and taking his body.

            “You know what’s next,” Phil instructed clearly. Clint reached up to rub his eyes before bending over the sink. His eyes focused on the things that Tasha had laid out, she covered them with a towel. “Eyes forward, baby.”

            It was the kindest words that had been uttered since the spanking had begun. Clint had known that his loves could not be harsh forever. The façade they had put on had been important to put all of them in the mindset. Deep down, he knew that Phil desired to praise him, to touch him. Phil had never just claimed his ownership over Clint with deeds, but with words as well. Clint was searching for that kindness in Agent Coulson now, hoping that it would come sooner rather then later.

            Clint obeyed his owner, forcing his face forward, and his eyes looking into the mirror. Behind him, he saw Phil moving around. His face was softer now, he body mannerisms not as rough, but he was still determined. Clint felt a finger on his anus, and he sucked in breath. No lube.

            “Deep breath in, baby boy.” Phil’s voice was all the lube that Clint needed. Clint would never go as far as to call it angelic, but it was soothing enough to relax him so that Phil could push his finger into him with little difficulty. That did not keep it from hurting, and Clint squinted his eyes to try and fight through the sting. The second finger had a drop of lube on it, it slid in slightly easier, but the stretching was painful. Phil pushed and prodded and pulled apart, prepping Clint’s asshole for the next part of their day.

            Clint knew better, but when he felt his cock twitch against his belly he moaned awkwardly.

            “Poor Pup,” Tasha mused out loud, reaching over to run a finger down his spine. “He can’t help but be turned on when his Master’s fingers are fucking his bottom.”

            Had Clint not already been in a position of punishment, he would have shot her a death glare, but he managed to hold his composure. That was until he felt Phil’s hands snake around his waist and grab his dick for the second time that day. Clint groaned out of pure aggravation. “Not yet, sweet boy. You have all day and maybe then some before I let you come.”

A cock ring. Where had Phil managed to find a cock ring? Where had he managed to find the gigantic anal plug that he had seen on the bathroom sink? Or the enema kit? Phil was either a kinky motherfucker or a magic fairy. He snorted at the thought; Phil rewarded him with a stroke of his prostrate. Clint screamed.

“Got something you need to say out loud, Clint?” Phil question. He pulled his fingers from Clint’s anus and gladly accepted the towel that Tasha handed him. When Clint shook his head, Phil patted the bottom cheek rewardingly. Clint watched as Tasha put a drop of lube on her finger before she began to rub the glistening liquid up and down a metal tube. Clint’s body shook.

It was not to say that Clint had experience many enema’s in his life. In fact, he could count on two hands how many times Coulson had felt necessary to administer one. Sometimes they were for punishment, sometimes they were for hygiene, sometimes just because Phil got it in is head that he wanted to humiliate his little boy, but the worst was an enema that combined all three of those attributes, and today was the latter.

Clint felt the cool metal on his anus. He sucked in air. Phil patted him gently. “I’m just going to put this right up your bottom hole, little boy.”

Check humiliation off his list. Phil was determined to make as embarrassing as possible. He used such childish words, like naughty or bottom hole. Coulson had told him once that he did all of these things to reinforce the idea of powerlessness. The smaller a person felt, the easier it was for Phil to take control of the situation. At the time, Clint had never been more proud of his boss. He was a lethal weapon and a trained interrogator, it was no surprise that he knew exactly how to get to the core of a person. Especially Clint.

            The tube slid up much easier then expected, the lube and the previous stretching made sure of that. Clint wiggled his backside, trying to find a comfortable position, but nothing suited when you had an unforgivable, metal rod up your ass. Phil nodded to Tasha who was holding up the other end of the contraption, a red rubber bag.  There was a familiar and haunting click and Clint felt the first of the soapy water draining into his colon.

            At least it was warm. Clint had that to be thankful for. Phil had given him a cold enema once and it had been pure torture. Clint moaned, it only took a few seconds before he started to feel the pressure. Phil had come around to his side, bent down low to whispers into Clint’s ear as he lovingly used his fingers to tease the tube in and out of Clint.

            “You’re doing really good, baby boy,” he praised

            Clint’s head is spinning as the water fills him up. Phil’s sadistic treatment of him causes such mixed feelings within his soul that it is those feelings, and not the pain or the torment that push him over the edge. Despite the horrible things that Phil was doing to him, the older agent made sure to remind him that Clint was his, the feeling of belonging and ownership not far from the younger archer’s mind. That was, after all, why they were here. Yes, Clint was in this position he had doubted Phil’s love and the pride that Phil had about being his owner. He had entered to this relationship willingly; he had consensually given his heart, body, and soul over to Clint and Tasha. Why did he have such a hard time believe they had done the same?

            Clint groaned as the pressure in his bowels increased.  
           

“Do you know why I’m cleaning out your bottom, pup?” Phil purred in Clint’s neck.  Clint violently shook his head, trying to ignore the ever growing need in his lower stomach. He clenched his jaw as he tried shifting his weight from foot to foot, but nothing helped. The water stopped flowing, and the cramps began. The tube kept him from letting go, and Phil was still teasing his hole with it.

 

“No, I don’t suppose you do,” Phil spoke out, as he straightened up. Without warning he pulled the enema tube from Clint and smacked his cheek simultaneously. “Clench. Don’t spill a drop.”

Clint cried out, not because of the pain, but because it took every bit of his mind control to will himself from releasing the contents of the enema all over Phil’s feet. He managed, groaning loudly as he squirmed on the sink top. Natasha began to pack up the enema kit diligently. Fuck her, for being so cool as a cucumber about the whole thing.

“I’m going to fuck you, Clint,” Phil promised as he began to strip off his shirt. “I’m going to fill you up, cum in your clean ass, shove a plug up you, and you are going to have a part of me in you all day. So you can remember who you and that pretty ass belong too.”

Clint’s knees weakened and he was thankful for the sink to support his weight. “Please,” Clint managed to beg through his gritted teeth. “I need to…” He could not possibly manage listening to Phil talk dirty and keep the composure he needed to hold in the enema.

“Go.”

Clint rushed from his bent over position to the toilet. Natasha continued to put away the things, pretending not to notice the uncomfortable sounds coming from her partner. Phil moved to stand beside her. They began to have a conversation in Russian, and at any normal moment in his life Clint would have eavesdropped, but he was to busy being hunched over to expel the contents that had been causing him discomfort. The part that bothered him the most is they both stood around and pretended like there was nothing wrong, that Clint was not sitting there evacuating his bowels like a sick, little boy.

The toilet flushing brought their attention back on him, and he flushed with embarrassment while they watched him clean up. 

Phil approached him, his hand gripped the back of Clint’s neck firmly jerking him forward till their foreheads touched. Clint felt Phil’s breath on his skin, and when he tried to nip out a Phil’s lips he was rejected.

“No, no baby boy,” whispered Phil firmly, his thumb stroking right behind Clint’s ear. “You’re going to go into the bed and get yourself ready for me. You’ll wait, with your ass in the air as long as I feel like making you wait. Do you understand?”

Clint moaned, their lips so close but not touching. “Yes Sir…” He managed to mutter. Phil finally gave the boy what he wanted, he shoved his mouth up so hard against Clint’s wanting lips. He used the anchor of his hand to maneuver Clint’s face into his, not giving his partner the opportunity to pull back. This kiss said so much to both of them, Phil was sealing it with a kiss so to say, sealing his claim over his love and passion for Clint. When Phil was satisfied that the kiss would leave Clint begging for more, he let him go and pushed him to the door of the bathroom.

“You are enjoying being cruel to him,” Natasha slid off the sink as Clint left the room. She had been turned on by watching her lovers kiss, and it never surprised her how seeing Phil be possessive over Clint made her stomach flip flop. Phil stopped to kiss her too, and Tasha loved that she could still taste Clint on his lips.

“You’re not complaining either,” challenged Phil as he ran his fingers through her soft, red curls.

“It’s makes me happy to see the light return to your eyes.” She was smoothing down the wrinkles in his shirt as she looked him over. “You love to own him, and he so loves to be owned. Seeing you both in the roles that you were meant to play… it…” She sucked in her chest and sighed loudly at the thought. “It’s so beautiful, arousing, and comforting....”

“He did look complacent,” Phil acknowledge with a grin. “Should we go make him more complacent?”

“Use him as a human fuck toy, you mean?” asked Tasha with a wry grin. “Might as well, since he is ours.”

“That is what I like to hear.” Phil followed her into the bedroom, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

 

“Jack,” Ianto whined into the pillow. “This is unreasonable and insensible.”

“So you have said many times,” Jack ignored Ianto’s pleading.  “I’m not budging.”           

“It’s a tiny fever,” Ianto muttered. “And you can’t even be for sure, we do not have a thermometer.”

“You’re pale as ice and your skin is warm to the touch,” Jack gave him the explanation one final time. “And you’re lucky that I cannot find one, because with the rate you’re complaining, I would be sure to treat you like the little boy you are acting like.”

“What does that mean?” Ianto challenged with a gulp. Though, he was sure that he could put it together.

“I would not be putting the thermometer in your mouth.” Jack told him as he set next to him on the bed. He reached over to brush a strand of sticky hair out of Ianto’s face. “There is no shame in resting, Ianto. Do as I say.”

Ianto squirmed under the covers, hating to leave his team without his assistance and excellent coffee making skills.  “But what do I do while you are gone?”

“Here.” Jack flipped on the halo pad. “Find something to watch…” Ianto took it from his fingers with a pout. “You can get up to go to the bathroom, but other then that, get better.”

Jack kissed the top of his head before leaving his under the weather partner in their bed. Descending into the kitchen, he was greeted by the sight of his team. They were bent over cups of coffee, looking miserable.

“Good Morning! Hey Owen, Ianto isn’t looking so hot.. if you could just give hi the once over.”

“Glad you can be so chipper,” Gwen muttered before she gave Owen a chance to respond to Jack. She was still wearing her displeasure on her sleeve.

Tosh had reclaimed her holo pad again, and was indulgently scrolling through information. Jack was not surprised to see that she had found a way to hook it up to her laptop. When he looked over to see the manipulated power source, he had to give the women credit..

“Anything you need to share with the class?” Jack asked, joining them.

“Been doing some research on the information you sent me late last night,” Tosh told him, her fingers working away expertly. “Starcroft Industries. Jack… if we can get all the technology this place has, we can go home.”

“You so sure, Tosh?”  Jack questioned from behind his mug. “I think you are projecting.”

“Oi! Jack, you can’t be daft enough to think we are staying here.” Gwen accused him, shooting him her infamous bitch glare.

“Did I say that?” Jack challenged, answering with his charming smile.

“I just don’t plan on shacking up,” Gwen divulged with a fixed jaw. “So you best be figuring out something.”

“Knock it off,” Jack finally said. He liked Gwen, hell he even loved her, but he had been putting up with her bullshit within Torchwood for to long. This was going to stop now.

“Excuse me?” Her dark eyebrows wrinkled.

Owen and Tosh exchanged a look. Biting her lip, Tosh excused herself by packing up her things and scurrying from the kitchen. Owen promptly got up, placed his cup in the sink, and announced he was going to look over Ianto. No one liked to be in the middle of a Jack and Gwen scrap.

“I know you’re not happy about this,” Jack acknowledge, he folded his arms over his chest. “Bitching about it is not going to get us off this place any faster.”

“We would not be here –

“If you are about to place blame on me or any other person, I would reconsider your words,” Jack warned in a deadly low voice. “No one could have known that the rift would trigger like it did.”

He watched as the brunette searched for a retort, but she knew better. Not that she was intimidated by Jack, but because his words were true. There was nothing they could have done.  She fingered her coffee cup nervously, before looking into it. “I can’t even imagine what Rhys thinks happened to us.”

Jack had known this moment would come. When he had to convince Gwen to forget about Rhys for the time being. He needed Gwen to be focused her on Masoch De Sade, because if Gwen was not focused on current events, she would be the weak link that caused them all to fail. He rose from his chair and went to comfort her. It was not the first time he had held Gwen, and it would not be the last time. There was an unstated bond between, in another world they might be lovers, but in their world their personalities were like oil and water.

“Ryhs, always knew that this job was a liability for you,” comforted Jack, kissing the top of her head as he wrapped one arm around her small frame. “He will know what to do.”

Gwen took that moment to start sobbing. Jack almost rolled his eyes at her hysterics, but he had to remember that his team was not like him. It was easy for him to pick and relocate to Masoch De Sade because he had no family, no commitments. Other then Ianto, who would willing follow him to the ends of the universe, he was a floater. He tried to understand and be compassionate, but his past lifestyle made it difficult.

“Gwen,” Jack finally said, holding her at arms length. “How can I help you with this?”

She pulled away, her hands going up to rub the tears from her eyes. “I don’t know Jack. ” At least she was honest about it. “Nothing here feels right, I know there is nothing that can be done to change this, but… I just want to go home.”

“Not an option,” Jack sighed. “But I can make you some tea. It won’t be as good as Ianto’s…”

“A cuppa sounds great.”

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. So this has not been updated in nearly a year. I stopped writing nearly everything. I got inspired to work on the verse again, so here you go, enjoy.  
> 2\. This is poorly edited. Just because I'm writing again does not mean that I am editing. My proofreading skills still suck.  
> 3\. Comment and kudos are my friend. Have a conversation with me about this verse. I love talking about it.  
> 4\. For my darling Lizzy.

 

 

* * *

 

Clint was lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling. The same as this morning, he was pressed between Phil and Tasha, though in a different manner. His body hurt all over in both a painful and pleasurable way. Beside him, Phil’s breathing was not calm and relaxed, it was heavy and catching. All three of them were drenched in rewarding sweat, and Tasha’s beautiful red hair was askew.

 

“How do you feel, pup?” Phil asked, snaking his arm around Clint’s waist so that he could pull the archer closer to him.

 

“Sore….” Clint replied automatically, his arms and legs ached just to move a few inches over into Phil’s arms. 

 

“Anything else?” Tasha implored, using delicate fingers to push her stringy hair away from her flushed cheeks. 

 

“Owned,” Clint offered up, closing his eyes as he felt Phil’s fingers tracing down his spine.

 

“Good,” muttered the handler, letting his fingers trace over one of the many red stripes on Agent Barton’s shoulders. He leaned into kiss it, and Clint hissed. “We almost forgot how well our love handled a whip.”

 

“You may have forgotten,” Clint muttered, meeting Tasha’s gaze across from his own. “I remembered after the first stroke.”

 

“And the twenty after that?” Phil inquired, taking the time to kiss each stripe and welt. 

 

“Well aimed and well earned,” Clint whispered as his hand found Natasha’s hand and intertwined his fingers with hers. 

 

She leaned in and kissed the tip of his nose. “Remember that next time you want to act like a fool.”

 

“Yes mam.” He leaned into kiss her. 

Just as they were about to get lost in another round of fucking, there was a knock on the door.

 

Tasha snapped, looking around for her weapon, and then looked even more panicked when she realized they had none. Phil reached out and put an comforting hand on her knee.

 

“Phil!” The voice on the other side sounded panicked. 

 

“It’s Captain Reynolds,” Phil said quickly. He scrambled to find his sweat pants. Tasha was wrapping herself in a robe. Clint fell flat onto his stomach in the middle of the bed, groaning.

 

“I can’t get up.”

 

“No one said you had too,” Phil replied, tossing the sheet over his sub’s naked body as Tasha went to open the door.

 

Mal entered quickly, took a glance at Clint, but said nothing. His eyes were fixed on Phil’s, and they were wide with worry. “Simon ain’t come home, you haven’t seen him have you?”

 

Clint raised his head to listen, and Phil’s eyebrow shot up. “He did not show up last night, I assumed he remained with his sister.”

 

“And I reckoned that he had stayed with you or Jack,” Mal sighed, running a disgruntled hand through his hair. “We ain’t even here a whole three days and I already ran off one of my crew. Ya sure I’m cut out for this place?” 

 

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Phil assured him as he reached for shoes. “We will help you find him. Have you checked with Jack? With Jethro?”

 

Mal shook his head. “I came here first, thought maybe you had some intel on the boy. Far as I know you were the last to talk to him.”

 

“This is news to me,” muttered Agent Coulson as Natasha disappeared into the bathroom with a change of clothes. “There was nothing out the ordinary with our conversation yesterday.” 

 

“Well that ain’t exactly the case either,” Mal admitted with a huff. “Seems we shouldn’t be taking information from the littles.” 

 

Coulson raised an eyebrow and began to collect clothes for Clint. He tossed them onto the bed on top of the lounging submissive. Clint moaned as he rose from the bed, the sheet wrapped around his lower half. He followed Natasha into the bathroom for privacy. 

 

“You mean Kaylee?” Phil asked, slipping on a jacket. 

 

“I do,” Mal answered with a nod. “Apparently she was all wrong about what Simon wanted, and I pawned him off on you and Jack for nothing.” 

 

Phil hummed loudly. “He did not mention that to me…”

 

“Well he was hiding it from all of us,” Mal had to admit. “I thought I could read my crew better then this.”

 

Phil reached out and put a friendly hand on Mal’s shoulder. The captain’s instinct was to pull away, but he managed just to flinch a little. “I promise Captain Reynolds, it was not about being able to read him. He intentionally kept this to himself. Simon does not strike me as a deceptive person, so I doubt it was intentionally malicious, but it was dishonest.” Phil gave Mal’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Sometimes submissives think it’s better to hide things because they have convinced themselves to be afraid for whatever reasons, I understand the behavior but I never accept it. It’s much better to tell your partner the truth then let things fester and boil, it causes situations like this.”

 

“You’re gonna expect me to punish him?” Mal asked knowingly.

 

Phil shook his head. “I’m not going to expect you to do anything,” Phil told him honestly. “I’m going to give you suggestions, and you are going to make the choices on how to handle this.”

 

Mal licked his lips in thought and then nodded in agreement. “Right.”

 

Natasha came out of the bathroom pulling up her hair in a ponytail, and Clint filed out behind her his feet dragging. 

 

“I think we should check the other condo’s first,” Phil announced, giving Mal a final pat on the shoulder before they separated.  “We’ll check with Jethro, do you want to check with Jack?”

 

Mal nodded and turned to leave. His gut twitched. Hopefully nothing bad had happened to Simon.

 

***

 

Gwen and Jack were just finishing up their cup of fresh coffee when Owen came down the stairs.

 

“Ianto’s just fine,” he assured the captain. “I’m surprised more of us aren’t sick, just because we happened to land on a planet with breathable air does not mean that we have not been introduced to bacteria, viruses, and allergenic that we have no immunity too. We have been very lucky. Whatever got him sick seems to be effecting him like a normal cold, rest and fluids. We’ll monitor it to make sure it does not get worse.” 

 

Jack nodded. “Thanks, Owen.”

 

“Anytime,” Owen shrugged before sliding into an empty chair. His doctor demeanor was quickly gone as a cheeky grin spread across his face. “Cute pants on the boy by the way.”

 

Jack could not help but smirk. “Don’t tell him you said that.”

 

“Oh I already did,” Owen beamed. “He blushed a thousand shades of red and told me off in Welsh.” 

 

Jack chuckled. “He’s a little bitter about being made to stay in bed.”

 

Gwen hummed into the rim of her cup. “I could see why he would be,” she said as she stood to collect Jack’s cup. She put them both in the dishwasher. “It would be a bloody hard change to taking care of Torchwood to being taken care of.”

 

“Out of all of us, he deserves it,” Jack told her.

 

“I won’t argue with that,” Gwen answered, leaning back on the counter.

 

Owen didn’t speak, but he nodded. He glanced over at Tosh who was still buried in her data pad. “Are you every going to join us in the land of the living and kinky?”

 

Tosh looked up with a lost expression. “Huh?”

 

Jack laughed. “Your point was proven, Owen.”

 

Owen winked at him. “Usually is.”

 

There was a tap on the window door of the kitchen before Mal slid it open.

 

“Morning other Captain, to what do we owe the pleasure?” 

 

Mal did not have time for sarcastic banter with Jack Harness, he cut right to the chase. “Is Simon here?”

 

“Simon?” Jack blinked. “I haven’t seen since…” Jack thought. “I haven’t seen him at all since we left the ship and moved in our respective houses. Phil talked to him yesterday and I was planning on sitting down with him tonight.”

 

“That reckon that won’t be needed anymore,” Mal said quickly.

 

Jack smirked. “Don’t trust me?”

 

Mal smiled back cooly. “Course I don’t trust ya, but that ain’t it. I’m thinking that I’m going to take Simon on myself.”

 

“Good for you!” Came a voice from the steps. Ianto was walking on the floor, buttoning his wrist cuffs of a dress suit. “That’s a smart choice.”

 

“Unlike some people,” Owen muttered, wiggling his eyebrows.

 

Ianto shot a glare at him. “I have no idea what you are referring to.”

 

“You sure about that, boy?” Jack questions, crossing his arms.

 

Ianto gulped and nervously as he moved to the button on the other sleeve. He did not answer Jack and he would not meet his gaze. Mal looked between them confused.

 

“Look I ain’t certain what’s going on here, but I need your help to find Simon, Phil’s checking with Jethro, and if i ain’t over there… we don’t know where he is.” 

 

Jack nodded, rising from the table. “Gwen, Tosh, Owen…. let’s not panic yet, but if the boy isn’t at Jethro’s I want us to help find him.”

 

His team nodded. Jack turned to Mal, “They’ll go with you for now. I’m going to take care of something, and I will join you.”

 

Ianto looked like he might speak up, but a look from Jack made his face pale and his lips snapped shut. 

 

Instinctively, Mal figured it out. He had only been on this planet for a few days, but he understood that this was a matter between Jack and Ianto. It was none of his business

 

***

There was no one at the kitchen table when Phil entered. He was not about to enter the home of a military man without making himself known. “Coulson at the door! Can we come in?”

 

“We are in the sitting room!” 

 

It was Jethro’s voice, and Phil followed it to find Jethro’s team lounging around. Tony and McGee were actively involved in a quite debate about a show on the holo projector they had probably only watched a few minutes about. Ziva’s nose was buried in a book. Abby was sneakily taking the control of the holo projector so that she could change the program. Jimmy was sprawled out on the couch with his head on Gibbs’ knee. Gibbs was being surprisingly affectionate with the boy, rubbing his back and petting his head.

 

Phil looked concerned. “Everything, okay?”

 

Jimmy sat up quickly when he realized that Phil was there. He shifted nervously on the couch, flushing with embarrassment.

 

Gibbs frowned before placing his fingers on the back of Jimmy’s neck and pulling his head back down onto his thigh. 

 

“Everything is just fine, Jimmy got a little upset at the breakfast table this morning,” Gibbs explained, rubbing Jimmy’s back when the boy buried his face into Jethro’s slacks.

 

“A little upset?” Tony questioned, turning around to join the conversation. “He had a major meltdown! Kid went crazy.”

 

Jethro glared at him. Tony bit his lip and chuckled nervously. “Er… sorry boss.” 

 

Gibbs was not satisfied. “Agent Coulson, do you mind?You’re closer and I’m a bit preoccupied.” 

 

Phil nodded and crossed the room with purposeful strides. 

 

Tony backed up, holding out his hands. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. I-

 

Before DiNozzo could utter another syllable Phil had turned him around and landed a very firm swat to the back of his pants. Tony yipped and covered his cheeks. 

 

“You know,” he muttered, rubbing the stinging spot. “Boss usually just slaps the back of my head.”

 

Phil shrugged. “It has the same effect.”

 

McGee burst out into a fit of laughter. “Only you, DiNozzo.”

 

Gibbs nodded in Tim’s direction. “That one too, Phil, if you can?”

 

Another loud smack echoed as Timothy McGee received one of the same. He took his swat with much more reservation, and looked down at the floor in silent embaressment.

 

 

Phil reached up to rub the back of Tim’s neck, an act of comfort that Tim clearly needed. 

 

 

“Palmer, you want to explain to Phil what really happened this morning at the breakfast table,” Gibbs prodded gently to the boy in his lap.

 

Jimmy Palmer shook his head vigorously, his face still hidden.

 

“Okay, then I will,” Jethro told him, his hand beginning to rub comforting circles on the small of Jimmy’s back again. 

 

Jethro looked up at Phil, and Phil recognized the look in his eyes. The same glimmering that he had about Clint and Tasha. A love that was deeper then any love that they had had for anyone before. It was more complex and real then a simple relationship. It was deep and unconditional. Phil felt he own since of joy to see Gibbs already experience that with his team.

 

“We were eating breakfast, McGee had made us what I think were waffles and I reached over to cut Jimmy’s up into little boy size pieces…

 

Jimmy interrupted with a groan. “Please don’t tell him, please.” 

 

Gibbs shushed him gently, petting the top of his head. He continued, “…He decided that he did not want waffles and threw them on the floor, stormed off, and I found him sobbing in the bathroom.”

 

“So he had a temper tantrum?” Clint offered up, leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed.

 

Phil threw a glance at him and Tasha whirled around with a shock looked, she was the first one to speak. “Did you not learn ANYTHING from this morning?”

 

Clint’s eyes widened before he began to backtrack. “That’s not what I meant… I mean… I was… I was just calling it what it was.”

 

Phil opened his mouth, but Jethro held up his hand. “He’s right Phil, that was exactly what it was.” 

 

Jimmy squired uncomfortably. “Can I just go upstairs please,” he begged, twisting his hands nervously.

 

“No,” Gibbs answered automatically. “You’re staying right here where I can see you and make sure that you don’t go off the deep end.”

 

“I’m not. I’m fine. It’s just what he said, a temper tantrum. It’s all done now,” Jimmy attempted to battle in a soft voice.

 

Gibbs glared down at Jimmy. “Mmhmmm.”

 

Jimmy fell silent and he found himself gripping Gibbs’ pants leg nervously.

 

“I’m guessing this wasn’t a temper tantrum for attention,” Phil commented, sitting down in the chair across from Gibbs.

 

Gibbs shook his head. “I didn’t think so either, so I got to the bottom of it.” Jethro patted Jimmy’s backside. 

 

“Literally,” Tony snorted, remembering the spanking that Jimmy had received earlier. When Phil acted as he was going to get up again to deal with his sarcasm, Tony held out his hands. “You know, I’m going to go do something away from him before I get myself in trouble.”

 

“That’s the first two words of since you have spoken since you got here,” Ziva finally commented, looking up from her book with a smirk.

 

Tony stuck out his tongue at her and darted for the exit before anyone could say anything, but it was not quick enough.

 

“Agent DiNozzo, before you go,” Phil called out. “We came over for a reason.”

 

Jethro raised his eyebrows. “Now its my turn to ask if everything is okay?” 

 

“As a matter of fact, its not,” Phil told him. “Simon is missing. He did not come home last night.”

 

There was a sudden silence in the room, Abby squeaked, Jimmy’s eyes went wide, and Timothy shifted uncomfortably.

 

“We wondered if you had seen him,” Tasha explained. “Mal is checking with Jack right now.”

 

“McGee went for a walk with him last night,” Jethro informed them, he cast a glanced at McGee with his eyebrow raised. McGee shuffled from foot to foot again. “Anything that you need to share with the class, Timothy?”

 

“I left him on the beach last night,” McGee muttered in barely a whisper. “He was upset.” 

 

“About?” Jehtro prodded. 

 

There was commotion in the kitchen, and Captain Reynolds barged in followed by three Torchwood team members. “Jack hasn’t seen him, any word here?”

 

“Possibly,” Tasha informed them. “McGee was just about to tell us.”

 

McGee gulped as the entire room focused on him. “He was upset about Phil…. and at Mal.”

 

Mal huffed. “So he was upset then.”

 

McGee nodded. “He felt like Mal had pawned him off… and instead of telling anyone, he just dealt with the decision.” 

 

“And that was the last time you saw him?” implored Phil, leaning forward on his knees.  

 

McGee nodded furiously. “I probably should not have left him in that state, but he wanted to be alone.”

 

“And you didn’t think you should have told me?” Jethro remarked with a disapproving frown.

McGee didn’t respond, he just looked down on the ground.

 

“McFibber,” Tony teased under his breath. 

 

“I didn’t lie!” McGee shouted at his team member. “….not exactly.” 

 

“Lying by omission is still a lie,” Phil announced and Jethro seemed to agree with him. 

 

“First place to start,” Tasha announced, pushing herself off the door frame. “We don’t all need to go trudging down to the beach, so its best if Mal and Phil go.” 

 

No one seemed to argue as the redhead took charge. Torchwood filed out awkwardly, not sure how they could even help anymore. NCIS sat around, looking for Jehtro to make a move. 

 

“I’ll stay with Jimmy,” Tasha volunteered with a smile. “I think you want to have a talk with Agent McGee.”

 

McGee’s face turned white as he watched Gibbs nod in agreement.

 

“I’m going to leave him with Ziva,” announced Jethro as he helped Jimmy sit up. “She is quite capable.”

 

“I am?” Ziva questioned.

 

“She is?” Tony echoed. When he received a glare from Phil and Jehtro he backed out of the room as he had intentionally planned.

 

“You are,” Jethro confirmed. “Just stay with him, watch him. If you have any questions…” He turned to the Russian. “Tasha?”

 

“Absolutely,” she offered with a smile. 

 

“Our place is free,” Phil told him, starting towards the door with Mal who seemed to be in a rush. “Clint can hang out here for while.”

 

The archer shrugged his shoulders. “Why not.” 

 

Phil cast him a scolding look.

 

“I mean… yes sir.” 

 

“Much better, pup.” He kissed the top of Clint’s head as he went buy. “Be good. Hopefully we will find something.”

 

“No need,” Mal growled, he was glaring daggers out the window. “I’ve found him.”

 

Everyone seemed to perk up. 

 

“He’s right there,” Mal nodded out the window. Simon was drudging up the path from the beach slowly. 

 

“Crisis averted?” Clint offered in a chipper voice, his sad attempt to lighten the tension.

 

“Afraid not, pup,” Phil remarked with a shake of his head. “Simon is in a lot of trouble.”

 

“Damn straight,” Mal agreed, barging for the door. “You coming, Phil?”

 

Phil followed him, leaving the entire room in a disgruntled silence. 

 

“Sir?” McGee broken it and looked at Gibbs imploringly.

 

“Yes, let’s get it over with,” He rose from the couch, settled Jimmy next to Ziva, and took McGee by the back of the next. “Thanks for the space, Romonoff.”

 

Tasha nodded. “Anytime.”

 

“There is a whip in the bedroom!” Clint called out, and Tasha swatted him. 

 

**

 

“Jack, you are being unreasonable.” Ianto protested as Jack lead him into the bedroom by a tight grip on his bicep. “It’s a small fever, I have come to work with much more serious afflictions.” 

 

“We’re not at work,” Jack told him pointedly as he sat down on the edge of the bed. “Your only job now is to do what I tell you to do or say your safeword.”

 

“I won’t safeword,” Ianto muttered under his breath.

 

“Excuse me?” Jack demanded with a frown.

 

“I won’t safeword,” Ianto repeated.

 

“Then we end this now,” Jack announced, standing up. 

 

“Wait… what?” Ianto’s face wrinkled in confusion and hurt. 

 

“If I can’t trust you to safeword, then I cannot explore this relationship with you,” Jack explained as he started to the door.

 

“Jack! Jack!” Ianto grabbed after his lover. “I… just mean that if you do something I don’t like, I will adjust and deal with it, because you are in charge.” 

 

“And that is a problem, Ianto,” Jack explained. “How can I know that you are safe if you don’t tell me if I am hurting you.” 

 

“You would never hurt me,” Ianto said softly.

 

“Not intentionally, no,” Jack agreed. “But if I did, I would need to trust that you could tell me. I need to know that you would not grin and take it just to please me.”

 

“Aren’t I supposed to please you?” Ianto asked in a soft whispher.

 

‘Yes, yes baby,” Jack reached up to cup Ianto’s face. “You’re supposed to please me by following our rules, by being obedient, and being honest with me if something is wrong.” 

 

Ianto leaned into Jack’s palm. “I just want to do everything correctly.”

 

“Correctly has nothing to do with ignoring the need for me to stop doing something that is causing your physical or mental distress, that isn’t how you please me,” Jack informed him, using his thumb to stroke Ianto’s cheek gently. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Ianto apologized, his voice only seconds from sobs. “I did not mean to make you angry.”

 

Jack nodded before leaning forward to kiss the bridge of Ianto’s nose. “I know, I should have talked to you before trying to storm out.” 

 

Ianto was silent in Jack’s arms. “I promise to safeword if you scare me.”

 

Jack seemed content with that. “Would you like to try slipping into our rolls again?”

 

Ianto bit down on his lip. “We’re going to speak about me not staying in bed?”

 

Captain Harkness grinned at the innocence in Ianto’s voice. “Yes, we are.”

 

“It’s really hard,” Ianto whined, falling backwards onto the bed. “I want to help you. I want to do things.”

 

“I understand, little one,” Jack sat beside him and reached out to rub his back gently. “But that is not the nature of our relationship anymore. You don’t have to take care of me. I take care of you.”

 

“That’s not true…” Ianto interjected softly. “I was reading… on the data pad. Plenty of D/s relationships allow the submissive to provide service to their Dominants.”

 

Jack smirked at him. “Glad that you have been doing research, but that was not what we negotiated in the bunker that night….”

 

Ianto sighed loudly. “I know, I told you that you could take care of me…”

  
“Do you still want that, or de we need to negotiate again?” Jack pressed gently.

“I…” Ianto shook his head and then buried it into his hands.  “I really liked everything we have done so far…. a lot… except when you made me stay in bed.”

 

Jack gathered the stressed boy into his arms and held him tight. “I’m not sure that you’re supposed to enjoy every single thing that happens, especially as a little boy. I think the idea is that I know whats best for you, and even if you don’t like it it needs to be done.”

 

“You just said that I didn’t have to do anything that I didn’t want to do,” Ianto muttered into Jack’s shoulder.

 

“No, I think I said that you don’t have to do anything that causes you distress or hurts you.” Jack corrected gently. “Staying in bed because you’re sick is neither of those.”

 

“I think this is what Clint was talking about,” Ianto sulked. “The give and take. The push and the pull. I know you’re right, but I don’t want to do it. I need you to make me do it.”

 

“You need me to make you stay in bed?” Jack repeated with a raised eyebrow.

 

Ianto sniffled and nodded. 

 

“I can do that,” Jack announced as he bodily maneuvered Ianto Jones back into the standing position. 

 

“Didn’t Uncle Phil tell you something about little boys wearing suits,” Jack scolded and stood so that he could round Ianto and slip his fingers into the shudders of the coat. Ianto relaxed his arms and let Jack pull the coat off, the same simple movements that Ianto had performed a thousand times before when he had taken Jack’s coat. Having the small gesture reciprocated made Ianto squirm in place. 

 

“He said that they little boys don’t wear them,” Ianto whispered into his chest. 

 

“Right,” Jack acknowledge, coming back around to Ianto’s front. He began to undo each button slowly and purposefully. “From now one, you will need to ask my permission to wear a suit.”

 

Ianto’s chin raised and his eyes were wide. “But… but… you like them.”

 

“I do,” Jack concluded as he pulled the hem of Ianto’s shirt out and it fell open over his chest. Reaching down, Jack collected Ianto’s wrist and began to undo the wrist buttons. “But I like you being comfortable too.”

 

Jack slid Ianto out of his shirt and watched as his chest rose and fell nervously. “Breath, baby,” Jack instructed. “In through your nose and out through your mouth.”

 

Ianto obeyed, taking three consecutive deep breaths. He relaxed his shoulders again and met Jack with a nervous pout.

 

“Jack?”

 

Jack hummed his response as he sat down on the belt and began to untie Ianto’s shoelaces. 

“Phil and I…. yesterday… before the little boy thing, we talked about something, while you were with the Prime Minster?” 

 

“Step out,” Jack ordered as he held onto Ianto’s waist to steady him. Ianto kicked off his shoes obdiently. “What was that?” Jack moved onto Ianto’s belt buckle as he spoke, Ianto wiggled his toes nervously. 

 

“We talked about collars.” If Jack had not been right underneath Ianto, he would not have heard him. He slid the belt through the loops with a smile.

 

“Collars, eh?”

 

“Yes collars,” Ianto repeated nervously. 

 

“Well, little boy, what about them?” insisted the Captain as he undid the button of Ianto’s pants.

 

“We talked about wearing them, all of us…. wearing collars of protection,” Ianto explained and he blushed as the pants pooled around his ankles. Jack did not have to tell him to step out this time, he took a delicate step backwards sot that Jack could collect his pants.

 

“I see you left your spaceships on,” Jack commented, pulling the waistband of the briefs with a snap.

 

If possible, Ianto flushed a deeper shad of read. “You like them…”

 

“That I do,” Jack patted Ianto’s rounded cheeks, framed by the tight cotton material. “Now what about the collar?”

 

“Phil mentioned ownership collars,” Ianto blurted quickly, turning around to hide his face. “I just thought…. maybe…Tony is getting one from Jethro..”

 

That was news to Jack, but he did not find it at all surprising. Gently, Jack turned Ianto back to face him, cupping the flushing Welsh cheeks in the palms of his hands. “I didn’t think you wanted one, Ianto,” Jack informed him honestly. “You’ve always been mine and I’ve always been yours, I did not even think we needed to solidify that..”

 

Ianto’s lips parted to say something, but Jack rested a finger on them. “However, this is a different place, we’re in a new type of relationship. It only makes sense you want what other people have as a demonstration of my love towards you.” He leaned in and kissed Ianto’s lips softly. “I’ll get with Phil to see the proper way to do this, and then I will have Jenson order the most beautiful collar you have ever seen.”

 

Ianto smiled, letting his body fall forward into Jack’s arms. “I love you..” He whispered into the sweet smell of Jack’s shirt. “I’m sorry I’m being so difficult.”

 

“Your’e not being difficult at all,” Jack reminded him, taking his shoulders so he maneuver him towards the bed. “You’re being a bratty little boy, which I intend to rectify. Bend over, palms flat on the mattress.”

 

Ianto gulped and obeyed. 

 

“Stick your bottom out, feet apart…” 

 

“That’s a good boy,” Jack praised as Into fell into position.  “Stay there, for a moment. Think about why Daddy is about to spank your bottom.”

 

Ianto nodded. “Yes Sir.” 

 

Jack disappeared into the closet. He collected a shirt for Ianto to put on for bed and started rummaging through the drawers for the second time since they had moved in. He found plenty of things that would do the trick, but it took him a few seconds to find exactly what he was looking for. A heavy, oak hairbrush paddle buried in a draw of other kinky implements. He was still not surprised that the condo came fully stocked.

 

Ianto glanced around his shoulder when he heard Jack entering, he squeaked when he laid eyes on the paddle before quickly falling back into position. Jack could not contain his grin at the amount of cuteness.

 

Tossing the shirt on the bed, he moved to stand behind his partner who was shaking nervously. 

 

“Deep breaths, baby,” Jack reminded, resting a hand on the small of Ianto’s back. “This will hurt, but not too much. It’s just a reminder to do what Daddy says and stay in bed.” 

 

Ianto bit down hard on his lip, but managed to take a deep breath. His chin bobbed up and down in understanding.

 

Jack laid the paddle down on Ianto’s backside and tapped. There was a pause and all that could be heard was Ianto’s heaving breath followed by the swish of air as the paddle fell through the air.

 

Ianto hissed at the sudden sting of pain that erupted on his skin. He rose up on the tips of his toes in attempt to mediate the pain, but he find himself desperately wanting to reach back to cover himself, but he managed to keep his hands on the bed. 

 

Before he had even process the strike fully, another landed on the opposite side. Ianto cried out, surprised by how heavy Jack’s hand was and just how much the paddle stung, even through the cotton briefs. He bawled his fingers, griping fistful’s of the sheets. 

 

Jack laid into him, giving him only seconds between swats and it left Ianto gasping for breath and twisting in attempt to evade the paddles. Jack diligently wrapped an arm around his squirming waist to still him, but he kept spanking with little pause from his rhythm.

 

Ianto’s breath was hitching and his eyes were squeezed close, but he felt tears behind them. He had long forgot his mantra of being stoic and was unable to keep himself from crying out. 

 

Jack stopped, the smooth word resting on its target. Ianto forced his eyes open, and tears poured down his cheeks and over his chin.

 

“Do you need to safe word?” Jack asked him, using the paddle to rub soothing circles. 

 

Ianto considered this. It hurt. It hurt more then he ever could have imagined. For God’s sake it had made him cry, but did he need to safe word? The question made his knees shake as  he sobbed loudly. 

 

“Ianto…” Jack cooed, tossing the paddle on the bed. 

 

“No, Jack its fine… I earned this.” Ianto pleaded desperately. 

 

“I decide what you earn,” Jack stated matter of fact, collecting Ianto in a hug. “And I think you earned enough.”

 

Ianto gripped tightly to his Captain, sobbing gently into the softness of his shirt. 

 

“Are you going to stay in bed now?” Jack questions.

 

The crying boy nodded vigorously. “Stay… in bed…” 

 

Jack sighed loudly, as he pressed his cheek against Ianto’s and felt the warmth.

 

“What?!” Ianto stuttered in panic. 

 

“Nothing, baby boy,” Jack assured him as he reached for the t-shirt. “Your fever is up, I don’t like spanking you at all, but I definitely like it less when you’re sick.” 

 

 

“Then don’t do it,” Ianto sulked, his lip pushing out in a beautiful pout. 

 

“Oh oh oh oh,” Jack chuckled as he pulled the shirt over Ianto’s head. “For an inexperienced little boy, you sure do have the manipulation thing mastered.”

 

Ianto crawled into bed when Jack pulled the covers back. “Do I?”

 

“Mmhmm,” Jack murmured, leaning down to kiss Ianto’s cheek gently. “Stay in bed. I’ll be back to cuddle with you after we find out about Simon.” 

 

Ianto curled up on his side, holding tightly to the pillow. “Promise?”

 

Jack was touched at how much Ianto was accepting his role. Jack patted his back gently before he rose from the bed. “I promise, little one.” 

 

****

 

Jethro slid the glass door closed and walked with McGee in silence into Phil’s sitting room.

 

“How do you want me, sir?” Timothy questioned, breaking the quiet.

 

Jethro didn’t answer, he simply sat down in the chair. Tim bit down on his lip nervously, awaiting instruction.

 

“From this moment forward if I sit down and you are able to, you will sit at my feet,” Gibbs instructed, nodding towards the carpet in front of him.

 

Timothy did not hesitate, and he fell to his knees. “You aren’t going to punish me, Sir?”

 

Gibbs pressed his hand on Tim’s lips forcefully. “I’ll let you know when you can talk.”

 

McGee nodded in understanding. He wanted to apologize, but instead he glanced down at the floor. 

 

“I’ll decide if I punish you,” Gibbs explained firmly. “And I don’t think that physical punishment will have the same effect on you as it would the others. Am I right? Nod your head to answer.”

 

Tim nodded, slightly amazed at Gibbs deduction skills. 

 

“So it would be ineffective for me to punish you using physical pain,” Gibbs went on. “So, I want you to kneel with your head down in silence for a while and think about how you have disappointed me.” 

 

Timothy’s mouth dropped open, his eyes went wide, and they glossed over. He open his mouth to apologize and Jethro pushed his finger back on his lips again. “Do as I say, boy.” 

 

Tim sniffed loudly before obediently bowing his head to the floor and closing his wet eyes into darkness. 

 

He was sure how long we was there. It could have been a few minutes or it could have been an hour, it didn’t matter because Timothy McGee was lost in himself. He was swept over with remorse and regret and he spent all of his time thinking about how he could make it up to Gibbs. No. How could he make it up to his master? If he could only speak and beg for forgiveness, but Gibbs had ordered him into silence. That was part of the punishment. Having to accept his wrong doings having to deal with the disappointment he had caused. How could he make this right? He had to make this right? Ho…

 

“Kneel up, Timothy.”

 

The comfort in Gibbs’ voice rushed over him and he felt his whole body relax as he knelt up to meet his Master’s gaze. “I’m so sorry…”

 

“I know….” Gibbs wrinkled face was soft and warm, there was no anger.  “This isn’t over yet, we need to talk about what happened.”

 

Timothy nodded. “Yes Sir.”

 

“How about you tell me what you did wrong,” Gibbs prompted, leaning back in the chair and staring down at McGee. 

 

“I withheld information from you,” McGee begin, still glaring down at the floor. “But I-

 

“No..no… I didn’t ask why you did, excuses are worthless right now,” Gibbs interrupted him. “I wanted to know if you were aware of what you did.”

 

“Yes Sir I am…”

 

“Good, and tell me why you should not withhold information from me,” persisted the Marine sternly.

 

“You’re the Boss,” Tim whispered in reply.

 

“More importantly,” prompted Gibbs.

 

“You’re my Master.”

 

“Damn Straight I am, Timothy McGee,” Gibbs snapped, making the boy jump at his tone. “And if we’re going to do this, you are not going to start off my lying to me. Trust, McGee, this relationship is based on trust!”

 

“I’m so sorry, Sir!” Timothy cried, throwing himself at Gibbs’ feet sobbing. 

 

Jethro was softened by the sound of tears and he bent down to lift Timothy up. “Never apologize,” he began.

 

“I know.. its a sign of weakness,” McGee finished, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

 

Jethro smiled before reaching out to cup the boys chin. “You’re right. It’s a sign of weakness, because saying sorry implies that you are a sorry person. You are not a sorry person. You are everything to me, you and the rest of the team.”

 

McGee sniffled loudly, listening to Gibbs’ words. He took them in, let them fill him up with comfort and reassurance. He took a deep breath. 

 

“If you want to apologize for bad behavior, you apologize, but i never want to hear you say you’re sorry again” Jethro lectured, still holding his chin.”Does that make sense?” 

 

“Yes Sir,” Tim agreed.

 

“I don’t want to have this conversation again McGee, are we clear?” Gibbs asked using the grip on his chin to make Timothy look at him. 

 

“Yes Master, we are clear.”

 

“Good, you are forgiven” Jethro let go of his chin and patted his thigh. “Head here.”

 

McGee scooted closer and placed his head on the soft material of Gibbs’ slacks. He closed his eyes and drifted off into another darkness. This time he was full of peace and content. 

 

 

 

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) I have started on the next chapter and I have a lot of places that I can go with it. So while I'm not pumping out chapters like clockwork, I'm still not completely done with this story. Thanks for patience.   
> 2) I still don't have an editor. I do my own editing, also one of the reasons that it takes so long.  
> 3.) Remember comments and kudos are my friends.  
> 4.) If you like this story and want it to continue make sure you leave me comments with the directions that you see characters going, or things you want to see take place. I'm running out of plot bunnies, and this world has endless possibilities.

* * *

 

Simon did not know what to think when he saw Mal and Phil storming across the lawn towards him. He probably should not have fallen asleep on the beach, and he wondered for a second if they had been worried about them. What other reason did they have to look angry?

 

They approached him and Simon was left in his tracks standing awkwardly. There was a paused breath before Simon opened his mouth to speak, but he realized that Mal was speaking at the exact same time. Mal was not just speaking, he was yelling.

 

“Where in the gorram verse have you been?”

 

Simon blinked, his words lost underneath Mal’s rage. He looked between Phil and Mal and realized that something had happened. He could not put his finger on how they had changed, but it was different. Phil looked angry, and Simon had convinced himself that Coulson could not get angry. Mal, on the other hand, always looked angry so this was nothing new, but there was a softness to his face that Simon was unfamiliar with. He could not quite put his finger on it.

 

“I fell asleep on the beach,” Simon replied quickly. “I didn’t mean to worry anybody.”

 

Phil and Mal quickly exchanged looks. Clearly that was not what they expected to hear. 

 

“We thought you had…” Mal trailed off, unsure how to present himself.

 

“Had what?” Simon demanded.

 

“We thought you had decided to leave because you were unhappy,” Phil answered. He reached up to massage his temples, relieved that the worst had not happened. 

 

“What is going on?!” Simon shouted angrily. 

 

“You tell us,” Mal replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

 

“I just did,” Simon retorted. He was becoming frustrated by this roundabout conversation. Typically, Mal was a straightforward person. He told his crew when, where, and why in very adamant prose. To be so ambiguously challenged was not only infuriating, but ti was confusing as well . 

 

“I fell asleep on the beach. Sorry… am I free to go now?”

 

Simon did not even wait for a reply before be stormed past them. Phil grabbed him by the shoulder. “Don’t walk away from us, boy.”

 

Simon bit down his reply, closed his eyes, and counted to ten. 

 

“Yes Sir…”

 

Behind Simon’s back, Phil looked directly at Mal, expecting the Captain to take control over the situation. It took Mal a second to get the hint, but then he straightened himself and stepped forward.

 

“We have things to talk about,” he announced in a deadly voice. “I want ya to go wait for us in your bunk, ya clear?”

 

Simon flashed a look of confusion over his shoulder at Mal. He was giving orders. Like a Dominant. But Phil was his Dominant now, right? Simon’s eyes shot over to Phil in panic.

  
“Do what he says,” Phil instructed—gently. He laid his palm on Simon’s shoulder, giving it a firm, but reassuring squeeze. “We’ll be there in a minute.”

 

Simon looked as if he might pass out, but Phil’s hand steadied him on his feet. They were really mad about the falling asleep on the beach thing. He hadn’t meant to do that. It was an accident. He sped off away from Mal and Phil trying to calm his overactive mind.

 

“What do I do, Phil?” Mal finally said as they watched Simon go. 

 

For a first time in a long time, Phil did not really have advice. He had never been in a situation like this before. That was not an acceptable excuse, of course he had never been in a situation like this before; he had never been on a planet where D/s relationships were a cultural normative. Every person was looking to him for direction, Phil had to step up. If he did not step up, it was likely that some could get seriously hurt.

 

“I think it’s best that you give him the same rules that I gave him,” Phil explained. “He responded well to them, he just didn’t want me to be the one to enforce them.”

 

Mal nodded. “What were they?”

 

Phil spent the next few minutes going over the rules that he had put in place with Simon just the day before. Mal asked plenty of questions and Phil patiently answered them. They talked about the importance of each rule, and the reasons he thought that Simon would benefit from all these things. By the time they reached the end, Mal still seemed nervous, but he was ready to talk to Simon.

 

“I’m going to spank him,” Mal announced as they walked towards his condo. “For lying to both of us.” 

 

Phil nodded in agreement. “That sounds reasonable.” It was what he would have done it has been Clint, along with keeping the boy in his pocket for an indefinite amount of time, but Mal was not ready to sustain a punishment that demanded so much of his time. 

 

“I don’t know how to do that,” Mal admitted, pausing at the sliding door that lead into the kitchen. “I don’t want to hurt him.”

 

Phil smiled at Mal’s commitment and worry. “You won’t hurt him,” Phil assured. “Your concern for that fact makes you less likely to injure him. You aren’t punishing him out of anger. You’re disciplining him as part of the consequences for breaking a rule that he was well aware of. That’s exactly the type of relationship he’s looking for. Accountability.”

 

Mal thought about that for a long second. He was staring to understand—on a basic level— what Simon needed from him. Simon needed to understand that someone had his back, that there was someone there who was willing to make sure that all his ducks were in a row, and to correct them if they were not. Mal could do that. That seemed easy. He was not worried about being strict, he was worried about all the other emotions that came a long with it.

 

“Hiya Daddy, Hiya Uncle Phil!” Kaylee greeted as soon as they stepped into the busy kitchen.

 

“Morning, Grease Monkey,” Mal greeted Kayle, who was sitting cross legged at the kitchen table. He bent down to kiss her on the top of the head. “What are you up too? Minding your Momma?”

 

Kalyee scrunched up her face. “Maybe.”

 

Zoe chuckled from where she was leaning on the counter. “Minding ain’t exactly what I would call it.” 

 

“You said eat breakfast, ya weren’t specific in what I was supposed to be eatin',” Kaylee announced proudly, crossing her arms stubbornly. She turned her adorable mousy nose up in the air.

 

“Cookies?” Mal questioned with a smile.

 

“Cookies.” Zoe replied, throwing an unhappy look at Kaylee.

 

Phil chuckled and leaned down to kiss the top of Kaylee’s head, coping Mal’s warm gesture.

 

 “It’s only the second day here, try not to push you Momma over the edge until at least the third day.”

 

Kaylee giggled. “It’s her fault, she wasn’t specific.”

 

“Hmmm… but did you know that cookies weren’t breakfast food?” Phil asked firmly. He had knelt down so that he was directly looking into her eyes. Kaylee bit down on her lip squirming nervously under his stern face. 

 

Kaylee sighed. “I guess.”

 

“I thought so,” Phil patted her back, before he stood up. “Maybe you should apologize to your Momma and try and make it right.”

 

Kaylee sighed again, knowing that Phil’s words would also prevent her from getting herself in further trouble. “Yes Uncle Phil.”

 

“That’s a good girl,” Phil praised, with a beaming smile.

 

“How are you so good at this?” Mal questions as they left Kaylee apologizing to Zoe.

 

“Practice,” Phil said with a chuckle. “Also, I don’t have inhibitions. I’m not afraid to lose anything. I’m not afraid of what people will think of me. I’m not a Daddy, but I know what they are seeking. I am open to playing that roll because its what they need.” 

 

Mal hummed in thought. Phil made it seem so simple. Why did it seem so hard to him?

 

 “The problem is, I don’t know what they need, so I’m fumbling in the dark.” 

 

“You’ll learn,” Phil assured him as they descended the stairs. “If you are expecting instant gratification in these situations, you are going to be disappointed.” 

 

Mal was nervous. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest. Up until yesterday he had mostly been un-involved with his crew, or at least he tried to pretend to be on surface level. He had always cared about them deep down, but was never the type of person to show that. He kept his emotions in check, and he sure as gorram hell was not about to talk about about it in the way he was about to now. The crew had been able to mostly get away with whatever they wanted, save putting his boat in danger, but he had never punished them before. If he had, he had just yelled at them for a good few minutes and he left it at that. He had never talked about it afterwards. That was the part that scared him. What if he couldn’t do it?

 

Phil put his hand on the door to open it and Mal stopped him suddenly. “Phil, wait.”

 

Phil stopped and turned to Mal, who looked as if he would throw up any second.. “I can’t do this….”

 

Phil reached out and grasped Mal by the shoulders, giving him a firm shake. “You can. Just follow my lead. Be firm, don’t second guess yourself. Like I said, you are not going to hurt him.”

 

Mal took in the words, though he was hesitant to accept them. His track record for not hurting people was not so good. He has never physically hurt them, but he has said a few questionable things. He had to be more conscious of his words now… especially now.

 

“Take a deep breath,” Phil instructed.

 

Mal obeyed and he inhaled through his nose and out through his mouth. His shoulders relaxed a bit.

 

“Again.”

 

Mal repeated the procedure and he felt the tension flow through his body with the the exhale.

 

“One finale time.”

 

This time Mal closed his eyes, sucked in a deep breath and let all of his fear out at the same time he pushed air out of his mouth. He felt significantly better. His heart was still racing and his fingers were still shaking, but he felt more confident internally. God damnit, Phil. 

 

“Follow my lead,” repeated Coulson, before he opened the door and walked in. 

 

*

 

Simon was twitching on the edge of his bed. He had not known where to wait for Mal and Phil. Was he in trouble? There were no protocols set in place for this. His legs bounced up and down as his hands writhed in his lap. Sweat was pouring off his face and the back of his neck. His shirt was soaking wet from nervousness. Maybe he should get up and turn the fan on, at least that would cool him off. Yes, the fan. 

 

He had just gotten up to turn it on when his door opened. 

 

“Phil?” Simon choked out, and when Mal followed him into the room Simon was speechless. 

 

“Take a seat, Simon,” Phil ordered,indicating towards Simons bed. 

 

“I was just going to turn on the fan,” Simon managed to explain, pointing to the switch that was no located behind Phil and Mal, who blocked his path.

 

“Do as I said,” Phil repeated, reaching around to flip the switch.

 

The automatic relief that Simon had been expecting did not come when the fan chilled the room.Maybe he was feverish? He did feel slightly nauseous, and he reached up to rub his stomach as he sat down on the bed. Why was he so nervous?

 

“Look, I told you,” Simon began, and he was shocked at how weak his voice sounded. He cleared his throat and continued. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep on the beach. I mean, accidents happen, right? I’m alive and-

 

“That’s not why we are here,” Phil interrupted roughly.

 

“Except don’t lose track of that, we’ll talk about that later,” Mal added, resting his hands in his suspenders. 

 

Simon gulped. He hated it when Mal stood like that, it made him squirm nervously when Mal purposely broadened his shoulders and stood with his knees apart and still managed to tower over you. 

 

“Then what else?” Simon asked.

 

“Simon,” Phil’s voice was stone cold, it sent chills down Simon’s spine. “What were the rules that I gave you?”

 

Simon thought back to the earlier conversation. There were several. And he was pretty sure that he had broke every single one of them. So which one was he going to bring to the table first. Simon decided to just got down the list in order that Phil had presented them.

 

“I’m supposed to talk to you when something is bothering me,” Simon uttered, trying to keep his voice as even as possible.

 

“Go on.”

 

“That I’m not supposed to withhold information from you,” he continued. “Which means no lying.”

 

Phil nodded. “And do you think that you have maintained obedience to that rule?”

 

Simon froze. Busted. Somehow they knew. They knew everything. Of course they did. How did Simon think that he could get away from hiding anything from Mal, let alone Phil? And that was the end of holding onto his composure, Simon lost it. For whatever reason he broke out in to sobs, bowing his head down into his hands. 

 

Phil, who had been so firm and cold till this moment, put a comforting arm around him. Simon had almost forgot that Agent Coulson had softer side. Of course he did. It was only moments before that Simon had thought that Phil could not get angry. Strange how things change so quickly when you are in trouble. 

 

“You got anything you wanna tell the class, kid?” Mal asked. He heard Jethro say that earlier to one of his brood, and if we was going to do this, he needed to model himself after the Dominants that had caught on quicker then he had.

 

“I do,” Simon sputtered out. “But I don’t want too.”

 

Phil was about to speak, but noticed that Mal was clearing his throat to speak. “That wasn’t a request.”

 

Simon looked up at Mal with wide, wet eyes. Why was he compelled to throw himself at Mal’s feet and beg forgiveness. He wanted to plead with Mal to keep him, to take him, and to be his Dominant.

 

The good doctor opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out but pathetic stuttering. 

 

Phil motioned to Mal to join them. Mal might have gotten the tough part down, but now it was time to work on the sensitivity side. 

 

Simon watched as Mal followed directions and approached the bed. He flinched when Mal’s knees cracked and the Captain was kneeling in front of him.

 

“We already know what it is,” Mal told him gently. A tone that Simon had never heard from Malcolm Reynolds.“We just want to hear it from you.”

 

Simon choked on his sobs. It was like one of those times in life where you wonder if you are just dreaming. If Simon hadn’t been crying so hard, he would have pinched himself. How do you tell Malcolm Reynolds that you have sexual fantasies about him? How did you tell him that you wanted him to control when you slept, ate, pissed, or breathed? You didn’t. You kept it in. You hid that. 

 

Or you tired. Simon had failed that tactic already, the only thing left was to spill his guts. Oh, but he hated that thought too. 

 

“I didn’t want Phil and Jack,” he looked quickly at Agent Coulson, backpedaling quickly. “I don’t mean that you are bad or anything…”

 

“Shhh…” Phil shushed him, rubbing his back. “I understand, go ahead and say the rest.” 

 

Simon felt like a mess. He probably looked like a mess too. Tears dripping down his face and off his chin, and he had to wipe his nose on the back of his sleeve a couple of times.

 

“I..I….” Simon had never been so embarrassed. He had also never cried this much in his life, not even when the Alliance had taken River. He had been able to take charge and get her back. Right now, he felt like a useless child. 

 

“We’re waiting, little boy,” Mal prodded, though he was still speaking gently. 

 

If Simon had been trying to convince himself that he wasn’t a helpless child, Mal’s words did the opposite. Little boy. The phrase made Simon’s stomach settle in a strange way, it also made him squirm in place. A fact that neither Mal or Phil missed, but they managed to contain their smirks. 

 

“I want Mal to be my Dominant,” Simon spoke softly, his eyes cast downward on the floor. He could not bear to meet Mal’s eyes. Even after all this, he was still afraid that Mal would reject him.

 

Mal grunted in acknowledgment, since he had just been told something he already knew. “The bigger question, boy,” he began, crossing his arms. “Why didn’t ya tell me this yesterday?”

 

Simon sobbed hard—if that was possible—and his whole body shook between the two men. “I don’t know, I was scared,” Simon confessed. “This whole place is strange. I’m a doctor, I have excellent composure. Why am I crying like this?!”

 

Phil proceeded to rub his back, trying to calm him down as he spoke soothingly. “These new dynamics that you and everybody else are being asked to participate in are are strange and new. They involve a lot of emotions. It’s easier to fight it then to let yourself be taken over by the vulnerability. Your reaction is good in so many ways, it means that you’re doing less fighting and more accepting.” 

 

Simon listened, trying to sooth himself from sobs to sniffles.Phil’s voice was unnaturally calm, and when he felt Mal’s hand squeeze his knee reassuringly, he was instantly relaxed. 

 

“You are not afraid of being submissive or open,” Phil went on. “You’re afraid that Mal won’t accept you at your most fragile state. You want someone to guide you if you are going to let yourselfbe so vulnerable to the world.” 

 

How could this man be so intelligent? Simon thought about asking how Phil could know all that without being told, but then he realized that it was written all over his face, and any idiot could have figured it out. 

 

“Mal, do you have anything to say?” asked Agent Coulson.

 

Mal cleared his throat. For a second, he seemed nervous, but it passed and he spoke as confident as ever. “This is new to all of us, buddy. I ain’t gonna lie to ya and say that I ain’t shaking in my boots about it, but I have always put my crew first. We got a job to do, and this job involves a lot of new things and adventures. I ain’t gonna let you go off the deep end.” He took a deep breath before reaching out to take Simon’s chin in his hands. 

 

Simon melted at the grip. 

 

“You’re mine. You and the rest of the crew,” Mal promised. “I ain’t gonna let anything happen to you. If this is what you need from me, I’m gonna give it to ya.” 

 

Simon had no idea what the proper response was, but he decided to follow his intuition and he threw his arms around Mal’s neck and held on for dear life. 

 

Mal seemed to be caught off guard by the hug. Up until this point, only Kaylee and Inara had been affectionate with the Captian. It was a small pause, barely noticeable before he wrapped his arms around Simon and held him close. “Shhh. It will be okay. I got ya.”

 

For whatever reason the small gesture of comfort caused the tears to flow again. Simon sent the next few minutes crying into Mal’s shoulder. Mal held him steadfast, whispering comforting words into his ear the whole time. Phil watched them with beaming pride

 

When silence filled the room, Mal let Simon go so the boy could pull away to wipe his eyes. “I suppose you are unhappy with the fact that I withheld this?”

 

“You bet,” Mal replied with half a smile. “Phil gave you rules and you broke them”

 

Simon nodded in agreement, before turning to Phil. “I guess you should punish me, because it was your rule.” 

 

“That would usually be the way that these things worked, yes,” Phil answered with a curt nod. “However, you no longer belong to Jack or myself, Captain Reynolds takes full responsibility for you. If he chooses to punish you is entirely up to him.”

 

Simon grimaced a little. While belonging to Mal was what he had wanted, being in trouble with him was not a situation that smart man would covet. He gingerly turned to Mal, awaiting an answer.

 

“We didn’t have formal rules or nothing,” Mal announced. “But I think you knew that lying ain’t something that I would tolerate.”

 

Simon nodded. He remembered how unhappy Mal was when Simon lied to him about River. Mad enough to punch him in the face. Simon was certain that they were past fist fights now, but now Mal had other punishments in his arsenal. 

 

“I’m going to tan your backside,” Mal announced firmly, without any hesitation in his voice. “And that is that.”

 

Had Simon been alone with Mal, he might have protested. Had this not been a serious infraction, he might have playfully whine his way out of punishment. But everyone knew that this was serious. Simon had lied to two men who had done nothing but take care of him. They all knew he deserved this. Not only to atone for his actions, but to mediate the guilt that Simon would certainly put upon himself if they did nothing. 

 

Mal helped Simon to his feet. Phil moved from the bed and out of their personal space, but he did not leave the room. Simon looked between Mal and Phil frantically.

 

“Phil is gonna walk me through this.”

 

And like Mal had said a few minute before; that was that.

 

***

 

Phil did not exactly feel uncomfortable, but he was definitely not looking forward to this. Punishments between Dominant and submissive were very private and intimate moments. Intruding on them felt like a complete violation of someones relationship. However, Mal had to set a precedent for Simon, and he needed Phil’s help to do that.

 

He watched as Mal guided Simon to his feet without instruction from Phil. Captain Reynolds maneuvered Simon in front of him before sliding into the middle of the bed so there was plenty of room.Phil crossed his arms and waited to be called upon. It wasn’t long before he was need.

 

“Phil?” Mal choked out.

 

“Pants off,” Phil instructed gently and Simon scurried to follow his instruction. 

 

“Uh uh uh,” scolded Agent Coulson, watching Simon’s hands freeze on his zipper. “Mal decides how they come off.” Phil spoke over Simon’s head, addressing on Mal. “You are free to remove them for him for a more humbling experience or you can command him to take them off himself to set the mood for a submissive tone.”

 

Mal nodded and to Phil’s genuine surprise reached out to fiddle with Simon’s pants. Phil could not be certain, but by the slump of Simon’s shoulders he was sure the good doctor was blushing. 

 

Captain Reynolds stripped Simon of his pants quickly, leaving the boy standing in a pair of dark green boxer briefs and a pair of white socks. Phil saw Simon’s socked toes wriggling nervously Unlike Phil, Mal was less meticulous. Where Coulson would have taken the time to purposely fold the slacks in front of Simon, the Captain tossed them aside. Without being being told, Mal hooked his thumbs into the briefs that Simon wore and jerked them down. 

 

Simon let out a sound, something that was a cross between a squeak and a gasp. Phil could not help but think how adorable it was. Clint made a similar sound when expose so surprisingly. 

 

Captain Reynolds continued, taking Simon by the wrist and pulling him down on his strong thighs. Phil nodded in approval. 

 

“I have the general idea,” Mal announced as he positioned Simon on his lap, allowing him to stretch his legs out on the bed and rest his upper body on a pillow. “But I’m unsure of…”

 

Phil understood. “How hard and where,” Phil finished for him, before stepping forward. 

 

“Everything from here,” He point to the tops of Simon’s round buttocks as he spoke. “To here,” his finger slid down to Simon’s thighs, stopping before the back of the knee. “Is acceptable.” 

 

Simon shivered nervously, hiding his face in the blanket and clenching the pillow under him tightly.

 

“The thighs hurt more, and require less strength to reach the desired effect.” Phil felt like he was lecturing his team before a mission. “Trust your instincts on how how much strength to use, gauge his reactions and the color of his skin.” 

 

Mal nodded, listening.He rested one hand on the small of Simon’s back and the other on the bare bottom presented to them.

 

Phil was just about to give more advice when Mal spoke. “We didn’t talk about this,” Mal said, speaking down to Simon. “But Phil told us before that safe words are important, and i’m inclined to agree with him. Do ya remember the words that he told on the ship?”

 

Agent Coulson beamed with pride that Mal had remembered such an important aspect of this. He had never worried if Mal could pull this off, but now he was more confident then ever.

 

“Red means stop and yellow means slow down,” Simon muttered into the sheets.

 

Mal nodded. “Right… bout time that we got this over with don’t ya think?”

 

Simon did not say anything, he closed his eyes and waited.

 

Mal maid eye contact with Phil a final time, and Agent Coulson gave him a reassuring nod before stepping back and out of their space again. 

 

****

 

Simon had known that Mal was not going to make this easy for him. Mal never made anything easy. Simon did not want him to go easy either, but for a moment—after the first powerful spank—he wished that Mal was a bit easier. 

 

The Captain meant business, and he intended to show it. There was no way that one of his crew was going to lie to him, especially about something so important. He was going to ensure that this was the last time that Simon even thought about withholding information from him. Phil had been right, his instincts were mostly good. Mal knew he had a heavy hand and he only had to raise his flat palm up to his shoulder to get his point across. Each stinging slap left behind a pink hand print and—despite Simon’s best efforts— a squirming little boy. 

 

Mal didn’t feel much like scolding Simon. They both knew why they were there, it just seemed redundant, but it also seemed necessary, and he found himself lecturing as he continued to spank.

 

“This ain’t how we treat each other on my crew,” he scolded, and he noticed when his palm landed on the rounded part of Simon’s rump where the thigh met his bottom that Simon cried out. Wanting to get his point across, he alternated from cheek to cheek on that spot until Simon was kicking his legs and holding back tears. “I ain’t exactly been all Kumbaya before, but that’s changing. I gotta take care of ya, and I will. That means ya gotta be honest with me so I can do that.”

 

Simon sucked in a breath, desperately trying to keep the sobs at bay. He failed and allowed his body to succumb to wracking tears. 

 

Mal paused for a moment, his hand resting in the air just above Simon’s reddening skin. Trust your instincts. Had this been Kaylee, Mal would not have stopped at the first sign of tears. Kaylee was a good soul, but tears were an innocent weapon for her. She could easily use them to manipulate herself out of punishment before the time was right. She also cried so easily, that the simple impending threat would make tears appear in her eyes. Mal knew that when the time came to discipline Kaylee that it would be the color of her backside that determined when the spanking ended. Simon, on the other hand, was different. He seemed sincere with his tears, and he was no longer wiggling on Mal’s lap, nor were his toes kicking up and down. He was perfectly still except for his shaking sobs, and he uttered up only a few words.

 

“I’m sorry, Daddy.”

 

Mal had already been called Daddy enough that day, that he barely noticed that it came from Simon and not from Kaylee. It was Simon’s apology that he focused on. There was no untruth in his words, he was truly sorry for his wrong doings, and relieved of his guilt because he felt secure in the fact that Mal was taking care of it. 

 

The Captain stopped spanking, and did the only natural thing left to do. He pulled up Simon into a hug. 

 

Simon gripped as if he might lose his Captain forever if he did not. Somehow they managed to roll around awkwardly to share the bed, Mal resting his head on the pillow and Simon’s back pressed up against him so that Mal could hold him close. Mal did not care how long they stayed there, as long as Simon felt safe, and he lost all track of time as Simon calmed down. When Simon was quiet in his arms, Mal looked up for Phil, only to find that he and Simon were alone together. 

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1) Happy to be writing again.  
> 2) Not happy to be editing again. I'm a poor self editor. Apologies.  
> 3) Enjoy... also.... comments and kudos are welcome and encouraged.  
> 4) Next chapter will include Mal's Rule, a Bar-B-Que and Swim Party, Tasha and Ziva interaction, and Ianto... because he's adorbs.

 

 

* * *

Jack was coming downstairs when his team filed back into their condo. 

 

“Find him already?” Jack asked in his normal chipper voice.

 

Gwen took a moment to fill in their leader in all that had transpired. How Simon had fallen asleep on the beach and Mal had made a serious mistake in passing over Simon’s ownership. 

 

“Bummer,” Jack pouted joking. “I didn’t even get to play around with the kid.”

 

“Jack!” Gwen squealed condescendingly. “Have a bit of class!”

 

Jack winked at her. He began to unbutton the cuff buttons of his shirt before turning to Toshiko, who had already sought refuge behind her data pad. “Put that down Tosh,” he ordered. Her head snapped up with wide eyes and she gently put the data pad on the table obediently. 

 

“Good girl,” he praised with a smile. “For the rest of you, follow me into the basement.”

 

“For what?” Owen demanded.

 

“Does it matter?” Jack retorted, deciding to nip Owen’s possible rebellion in the butt. He might have the makings of Dominant, but for now the boy had a lot to learn, and he submitted to Jack by his own admittance.

 

Owen signed loudly and was the first one to disappear into the basement. Gwen who had no reason not to trust Jack followed their doctor, leaving Jack and Tosh in the kitchen. As Tosh began to slink out her chair, Jack caught her hand. 

 

“Tosh,” he said gently. “Remember how Phil gave us a demonstration on the ship.”

 

Toshiko, who was generally very talkative at the Torchwood headquarter simply nodded.

 

“Would you mind helping with another one?” 

 

“What… what exactly would that involve?” She asked shyly. 

 

Jack took a minute to explain what he had planned, reinforced that safe words were required, and that they would only do this if he had Tosh’s full consent. With a deep breath, Tosh agreed, though she did express some reservations. 

 

“I understand,” Jack promised gently, putting a comforting hand on the back of her neck. “This is scary, but we’re going to jump right in.” 

 

“As we always have,” Tosh agreed, forcing confidence in her voice.

 

“That’s the spirt!” Jack draped his arm around over Tosh’s shoulder and lead her down stairs. He kissed the top of her head as they entered the basement, where Owen and Gwen stood around awkwardly waiting.

 

Jack looked around, surveying each door carefully. Humming, he pointed at the door on the left. “That one.” 

 

“Jack? What are we doing down here?” Gwen demanded.

 

Jack pushed the door open, leading Tosh by the hand. “We’re about to have a lesson.”

 

“In what exactly?” Owen questioned 

 

“BDSM.”

 

Gwen’s eyes widened and she looked like as if she was going to bolt for the nearest exit. Owen hid a smirk, trying to appear as if he was uninterested, but Jack could tell that he was listening with nervous excitement. His eyes moved back and froth from Jack to Tosh.

 

“And Tosh is part of this?”

 

Jack nodded his chin. “She’s going to be my demo bottom.”

 

Owen’s though went directly to the scene on the ship. Was Jack about to do to Tosh what Coulson had done to Clint? No way. Not on his life. His body stiffened into an authoritative pose. 

 

Jack surprised them all by being a mental step ahead of Owen. He took the doctor by the chin and looked him in the eye. “Before you get alpha male on me,” Jack spoke in a deadly tone. “Think very carefully.”

 

Owen swallowed, but he did not change his postured.

 

“Would I hurt Tosh?” 

 

When Owen kept silent, Jack tightened his grip. “Would I?”

 

“No… no you wouldn’t…” Owen sputtered, lowing his shoulders. “But why her…. she’s…” Owen glanced over at Tosh who was pulling her dark hair up into a ponytail. “She’s sensitive.” 

 

“Excuse me?” Tosh spoke before Jack could even get a word out. “If I’m sensitive, it’s because the rest of you have made me that way.”

 

Gwen, who had been awkwardly silent till that moment, let out an even more awkward snort. 

 

Jack looked at her, Owen’s face still in his hands. “What?”

 

“She’s right, you know?” Gwen agreed with Tosh. “This whole quiet, sensitive persona that we see in Tosh. We created that. We drowned out her badass with our own perception of who we wanted her to be.”

 

Tosh nodded as she began to unbutton her jeans. “While I concur with Gwen, I quiet prefer my delicate personality. It does not make me less badass, but it also does not make me weak or…” She glared at Owen. “…anymore sensitive then the rest of you.” 

 

Owen felt slightly embarrassed by his earlier statement, he squirmed a little, still under the control of Jack’s powerful palm. Jack patted Owen’s cheek before he stepped away. Owen glared at him contritely, which provoked a chuckle from the Captain.

 

“I think Ianto should be here,” Gwen stuttered nervously as Jack walked over to a large chest and began digging around.

 

Jack managed not to role his eyes at her, but just barely. “And why is that?”

 

Tosh had stripped down to bra and panties and was standing in the center of the room trying not to draw attention to her beautiful body. Owen could not take his eyes off it and Gwen… Gwen was afraid to show that she found her asian co-worker attractive.

 

“He’s your partner,” Gwen defended. “You cannot do this with someone else without his permission.”

 

Jack pulled several items from the chest. Tosh hid a squeak, Owen’s wides went wide, and Gwen looked desperately at the exit.

 

“Gwen,” Jack lectured, running his fingers through the leather strips of the implement he was holding. “You mistake the relationship and think that I need Ianto’s permission to do anything.” 

 

“That doesn’t sound like the relationship Phil talked about,” Gwen retorted.

 

“It’s not, and its not the kind of relationship I have with Ianto either,” Jack told her simply. He laid the leather object on Tosh’s shoulders, the tails hanging off her breast and the handle trailing her spine. “But you have to be careful about phrasing on this planet, my dear. In the relationship I have with Ianto, it’s me who gives permissions, not him.”

 

Gwen swallowed as she watched Jack take a pair of leather cuffs from the top of the chest. “Right…” She corrected herself. “And he’s okay with this?”

 

Jack took one of Tosh’s hand into his. He delicately kissed each tiny finger against his lips before he wrapped the cuff around her wrist and secured it. 

 

“I would not be doing it if i thought he wasn’t,” Jack assured her as he did the same to Tosh’s other hand. 

 

“Owen, you’re unusually quiet? No sarcastic quips?” Jack asked. He had drawn Tosh’s shaking body into his chest and and wrapped his arms around her. 

 

“Is she going to be okay?” Owen asked, his voice sounded as shaky as Tosh looked.

 

“Tell Owen your safeword,” Jack instructed.

 

“Red.”

 

“What will happen if you say it, Tosh?”

 

“You stop.”

 

Owen still seemed hesitant, thankfully there was a couch behind him and he was able to fall back on it before his knees gave way. 

 

“Good.”

 

Enough was enough. It was time to begin. Jack took the rings on the cuffs and directed Tosh’s hands upward where he hooked them on hidden clips. All three of them gasped when Jack shook the frame holding Tosh to make sure it was secure. 

 

“You doing okay, Tosh?” Jack whispered as he rounded her.

 

Tosh nodded, biting down on her lip.

 

“Use your words, sweet girl,” Jack ordered, picking up the flogger and letting the tails slide up and off her shoulder.

 

She shivered and managed to speak. “Yes, sir.”

 

“The titles aren’t necessary, pet,” Jack told her, with a smile. “But they are appreciated.” 

 

“Do either of you know what this is?” Jack asked, turning the leather flogger in his hands so that Gwen and Owen could see it.

 

“Flogger,” Gwen simply whispered. She too had fallen on the couch next to Owen. They seemed to be comforting each other, and their fingers hooked together on top of Owen’s knee. 

 

“Yes.”

 

Jack stepped forward and turned Tosh slightly so that they had full view of her back. It was smooth and unblemished. So lovely and so unmarked. Not for long. 

 

“The flogger can be used to cause all sorts of sensations,” he explained before striking Tosh across the back with the falls. Tosh rose on her tip toes and she whimpered.

 

“Color, pet?” Jack prompted.

 

“Green, sir.”

 

Jack smiled and he struck her again right across her shoulders. She made the same sound, but Jack watched her rise onto her toes and then fall back down in a relaxed manner. Then again. And again. And again. Jack spun the floggers in his wrist and worked Tosh’s back like it was a canvas under his brush. By the time her shoulders were striped, pink, and warm to his touch. 

 

“Everything okay, Tosh?”

 

Tosh’s reply was soft and lost between deep breaths. “Green… green…”

 

“I’ve demonstrated that the floggers can be used for pleasure,” Jack said as he touched her shoulder reassuringly. “It can also be used to cause pain.” 

 

He lifted his arm and brought down the tails of the flogger sharply across Tosh’s bottom.

 

She squealed and pushed forward against the restraints. “RED!”

 

Gwen jerked nervously and Owen jumped to his feet, but he was no match for Jack’s speed.

 

Jack moved quickly to wrap his arms around her, pulling her body against his chest. “Good girl, you used your safe word. I won’t do that anymore, shhhh.”

 

It took Tosh a second to relax into Jack’s embrace. Her breath returned to normal as her body melted into Jack’s chest. Jack smothered the top of her hair with kisses of praise and affection. Owen had stepped forward and was watching them intently. 

 

“Are you finished Tosh?” Jack whispered into her ear. “Can you take more?”

 

Tosh considered his words. “You promise you won’t hit me like that again?” She whispered gazing across at Owen.

 

“No, my pet,” Jack assured her, running fingers down the marks on her shoulder blades. He looked across Tosh and right at Owen. 

“Since you are so eager to help,” Jack instructed, reaching for a different tool from his arsenal. “I’m going to teach you.” He focused back to speaking to Tosh. “We talked about Owen and Gwen trying, are you ready for that.”

 

Tosh hadn’t taken her eyes off Owen, and they continued to look into each others eyes. She nodded gently.

 

Owen also nodded, finally breaking eye contact with Tosh as he rounded her and took the riding crop from Jack’s hand.

 

* * *

 

 

Phil had snuck out Mal’s condo just in time to see Jethro and McGee leaving his own. He smiled at the subdued look on the younger agents face and the protective hand on the back of Tim’s neck that guided them back to their own condo.

 

“Jethro,” Phil called, hating to interrupt the moment. “A moment of your time, please.” 

 

Jethro whispered something to McGee that Phil could not hear. Timothy nodded and moved quickly into the sliding glass door. 

 

“Anytime, Coulson,” Jethro answered as they met in the yard. “Did you need something.”

 

“I just wanted to inform you that Simon was no longer under my protection and he has been returned to Mal.” 

 

Jethro nodded. “That’s good to hear.” 

 

“How are you holding up? Your team?” Phil inquired. He had made himself the local keeper, and he felt it was his responsible to check in with each Dominant personally. Especially Jethro. He felt that they were becoming fast friends. 

 

“Much better then I expected,” Gibbs stated, almost in disbelief. “I sat down ground rules for my team. Tony and I had a….I’m not sure what to call it, a scene? Abby got in trouble. Timothy is nervous. Jimmy is quiet. It’s not much different then back home, just more…physical.” 

 

Phil listened intently, and he noticed that Jethro left out one of his team. “Ziva, you didn’t mention Ziva.”

 

Jethro sighed. “Ziva is, and always has been, a special case.” 

 

“Oh?” Phil’s response was simple enough to inquire, also to see how much Jethro trusted him with sensitive information with his team.

 

“Back on earth, Ziva was as Mossad Liaison, she had seen things in her life that she should have been spared from. She saved my life, by ruthlessly and unemotionally killing the man who had me a gun point. She’s witty and warm as a cover up, but we all know that Ziva feels nothing on the inside.” 

 

As Jethro said it, Phil could see the pain in his eyes and feel it in his words. Before Phil could say anything comforting, Jethro continued.

 

“I could not protect her if I wanted too,” he explained sadly. 

 

“It sounds to me that Ziva needs protecting from herself,” Phil pointed out gently.

 

Jethro raised his silver eyebrows. “What do you mean by that?”

 

Phil sat down on one of the lawn chairs, inviting Gibbs in the one across from him. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, focusing directly into Gibbs’s eyes.

 

“I would like Ziva to spend some time with Natasha,” Phil proposed. “I think that Natasha has a lot to teach Ziva, it was not long ago that your description of Ziva fit my Russian accurately.” 

 

Jethro leaned back and thought about this intently. In his experience, putting two strong willed women in a room had never boded well, but if what Phil was saying about Natasha was true and they were going to have to be on this planet for some time, then trying everything to get Ziva to open up was important. 

 

“What do you think will happen between the two of them?” Jethro asked.

 

Phil shrugged. “Romanoff came to us a stone cold killer,” Phil went on. “Barton was ultimately what softened her, but it was the two of us who broke her…. and then put her back together again.” 

 

“Shouldn’t that be my job?” Gibbs asked, unsure of his position in Ziva’s life.

 

“Not necessarily,” proposed the SHIELD agent as he too leaned back and got comfortable. “It’s my observation that Ziva wants to be a Dominant on this planet, and that neither of you desire to have an intimate relationship besides friendship. If you had more experience, I would say that you could be a mentor, but you’re also learning too. I think that Tasha is the perfect scenario. Of course, you will want to watch over her…”

 

Jethro nodded emphatically to that. 

 

“…. but you cannot give her what she needs,” Phil concluded. 

 

“And how do we know that this is even a possibility?” doubted Gibbs, knowing Ziva… this wasa long-shot.

“We ask them,” Phil announced, he was crooking his finger towards the sliding glass door where Clint had been watching his handler.

 

Clint slid the door open, blushing at the fact that Phil had discovered him watching their interaction.

 

“Pup, will you please tell Tasha and Ziva to come outside for a moment,” Phil instructed firmly.

 

Clint nodded and hurried to obey Phil.

 

“Right now?” Jethro asked in disbelief. 

 

“No time like the present,” Phil told him, watching the door. Natasha came out the door, followed closely by Clint. Phil had to smile at Clint’s constant need to be close to them, even when not invited. Ziva came out, more hesitantly. 

 

“I was watching over Jimmy, is this important?” she asked. Phil noticed how observant she was, and she knew that this was about her.

 

“Pup go make sure that Jimmy is okay,” Phil ordered. Clint looked dejected and pouted. Tasha leaned in and whispered something in Russian.

 

Clint’s eyes went wide before he darted off back to the condo, leaving the four of them alone. 

 

“What is the matter?” Ziva asked, looking towards Gibbs for an answer. “Have I done something wrong?”

 

“Take a seat Ziva,” Phil asked, motioning to an open pool chair. Natasha balanced herself on the armrest of Phil’s chair, making herself comfortable. 

 

Before Phil could say anything, Jethro leaned forward and put a hand on Ziva’s knee. “Once you asked me for something more permanent, something that could not be taken away from you. I was not able to actually give you that on earth, but this place… I think this is it,” Jethro said and Phil noticed that Ziva turned her head away to hide tears forming in her eyes. “I want you… no I need you to embrace this, I need you to let go Earth. Of Mossad. Of NCIS. This is our home now.”

 

Phil listened with a great sense of pride swelling in his heart. This was their home now. For as long as they did not have answers. 

 

“Yes, Gibbs, I understand….”

 

Gibbs head up a hand. “You don’t understand,” he chided her softly. “On this planet we enter into certain roles. We both chose to enter into the role as Dominant. So far I have learned that a Dominant is not about being cruel or strict, it’s about being sensitive to the needs of the people in our care. It’s about knowing when a stern world is needed or when a hug will do. It’s about learning knew skills so that we can improve ourselves and the lives of our charges. You can’t do any of this…” Jethro explained. “Do you know why?”

 

Ziva shook her head, the tears that threatened earlier we barely noticeable. “Because you do not love yourself,” Jethro told her pointedly. 

 

“I-“ But Ziva could not form words to argue. She sucked in a breath and looked Jethro dead in the eye. “What do you suggest I do then?”

 

Phil cleared his throat. “That’s where we come in, or Natasha actually,” Phil reached out and touched Natasha’s thigh. “Apologies Nat, I volunteered you for something without speaking to you first, that’s why we’re all here. To communicate and get consent.” 

 

Natasha nodded for Phil to go on. 

 

“We want you to spend time with Agent Romonoff,” Phil explained. “Just a short time ago, she felt almost exactly the same way you did, and as you can see now, she is a very strong women and Dominant.” 

 

Suddenly Natasha caught on, and she gave Phil’s hand a reassuring squeeze. Phil felt confident that this was the right match. 

 

“Spend time?” Ziva inquired. “What would spend time involve?” 

 

Phil and Jethro looked at the highly capable red head. She smiled, happy to have the conversation in her hands now.

 

“I know that to be a better Dominant and person, I had to be broken,” Natasha explained. “Phil broke me, and I don’t mean that he hurt me or forced me to be subservient to him. He simply guided me down the path and at the end I broke myself.”

 

“I do not understand,” Ziva admitted.

 

Natasha shifted, taking on a more Dominant position. He shoulders straightened and her voiced changed. “You would belong to me,” she said simple. “I would take you under my wing and teach you and train you.” 

 

“I don’t belong-

 

Jethro interrupted her. “Just listen.”

 

“You do not have to be submissive to me,” Natasha explained. “You are a Dominant and therefore I respect your role, but you would be guided by me. I would tell you to do something and you would do it, not because I am more Dominant then you, but because you recognize my wisdom and have the knowledge that it is best for you to do it.” 

 

“Like Phil does for Gibbs,” Ziva tried to parallel.

 

“Almost,” Natasha said with a smile. “Ours would be more official in a way. I would be your guardian and you would be my ward, for all intents and purposes. I would teach you and guide you and mold you, you would in essence belong to me until together we decided otherwise.” 

 

 “That sounds a lot like being a submissive,” Ziva muttered. 

 

“It does,” Natasha agreed. “But it’s beneficial. I know… Phil did it for me.”

 

Phil grinned and Natasha squeezed his hand. “I will give you time to think about it.”

 

“No.” Ziva announced, surprising them all. “I have my decision.” 

 

They all waited patiently for her to speak. “Gibbs is correct, I wanted something more permeant, something that could not be taken away from me. This is it…I accept your offer.” 

 

Phil and Jethro seemed to be so surprised by the ease of this decision, that Natasha was the only one to speak. “Good, then you and I will have dinner tonight and draw up terms of mentorship.” 

 

Ziva nodded her acceptance, and then left. Phil remained surprised at how decisive Ziva had been and how smooth that went.

 

“I feel like this is the calm before the storm,” Jethro announced as she stood up from the chair. “I apologize in advance Tasha, I doubt she will be as compromising later.” 

 

“No worries,” declared the red head Russinan confidently. “I see so much of my former self in Ziva, I know how to handle it.” 

 

“I’ll leave her in your capable hands,” Gibbs said with a sigh. “But I do care very much about her, so take good care of her.” 

 

“Understood, Sir.” Natasha acknowledged. 

 

“Phil” Jethro said, holding out a hand. 

 

“Jethro.” 

 

The shook hands as Natasha rolled her eyes. 

 

“Ziva isn’t a business transaction, and you are friends,” she fussed. “Why don’t you hug one another.”

 

Jethro shrugged, he would not have called himself a hugger on her earth, but here… hugging seemed to be important. He held out his arms, Phil stood and gladly embraced his friend.

 

“Much better,” Tasha grinned. “Now, Gibbs, when you go inside, will you send our boy out?”

 

Phil rubbed his hands together. “My palms are itching, I’m sure that pup’s backside could use a little warming.”

 

Jethro chuckled. “Now that you mention it, so are mine.”

 

Natasha leaned into Phil, a content smile settling on her lips. “Tony is a lucky boy.”

 

“So is Clint,” Jethro added. “They are all lucky. We care about them a lot.”

 

“Yes we do,” Phil admitted with no shame. He had grown to care very much about all of the people he had surprisingly been thrown together with. 

 

Jethro was walking back to the condo. He stopped and looked at a box, opened his lid, and laughed. “Grills are still the same in this world.” 

 

“Are you offering to grill me a steak, Jethro?” Phil joked, wrapping his arms around Nat’s waist.

 

“Sure, if I can find something that resembles a steak,” Gibbs played back. “But I think we should all have dinner out here tonight. We all need to spend more time togethe.  Also give Natasha and Ziva time to themselves.” 

 

“Good plan,” Phil acknowledged. “Right after I play with Pup, I’ll send the message along to Jack and Mal.” 

 

Jethro nodded as he slid the door open, Clint was waiting at the door like a faithful puppy. No wonder they called him pup. He jerked a thumb behind him. “Your Sir is waiting on you, boy.”

 

Clint bolted for Phil. 

 

* * *

 

 

“Mommy,” Kaylee said, with big eyes.

 

“Yeah?” Zoe was busy reading some material she had found. It took her several hours to figure out how to get the information from the data base to the small pad she was reading now, and she had asked Kaylee to play quietly while she read up on several aspects of their new situation. 

 

“Why is Uncle Phil spanking Clint outside?” 

 

“Hmmm what?” Zoe’s head snapped up and she fixed her eyes on the scene that Kaylee had mentioned.Phil had Cling drapped over his legs, his attractive backside on display as it was rapidly turned red by Phil’s hand. Clint laid there and accepted so willingly. Zoe wished she could see his face as it was buried in Natasha’s lap.

 

“Maybe he did something naughty,” Zoe suggested with a shrug.

 

“That doesn’t look like a naughty spanking,” Kaylee pointed out with a giggle.

 

“How would you know what a naughty spanking was, grease monkey?” Mal inquired as he came up the stairs.

 

“Where is Simon?” Kaylee inquired, looking around Mal to see if her friend was following.

 

“Sleepin’,” Mal explained. “I tucked him in and he’ll be up to join us for supper.”

 

“Are you his Dominant now?” Kaylee asked.

 

“I ain’t sure why that’s any of your business little miss,” Wash scolded as he entered the kitchen. He held up another data pad to Zoe, who snatched it form his hands. 

 

“I reckon I am,” Mal announced falling back on the sofa. “Information, Zoe?”

 

“A lot, Captain,” Zoe answered, using her finger to slide through the words on the screen. “Keeps saying that we set up rules. and consequences for those rules.” 

 

“Ain’t we already done that?” Mal questioned with a confused look.

 

“I think it means more specific,” Wash tried to explain. “Structure… its supposed to be good.”

 

“What are we talking about?” Kaylee demanded, obviously feeling left out the conversation.

 

“You, grease monkey,” Jayne announced, joining them. Even he was on board with all the research that Captain and the First Mate were doing. “We’re trying to establish our rules here, and make sure we keep you and Simon in line.”

 

“And Hoburn occasionally,” Zoe added with a grin, playfully elbowing her husband. 

 

“Keep me in line?” Kaylee questioned nervously. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. 

 

“I just gave Simon a spankin’,” Mal announce boldly. “I’m thinking that’s gonna be the default method of discipline in our family.”

 

“Our family?” Kaylee repeated in her soft voice.

 

“Yeah, little girl,” Wash leaned over the back of her chair, and she looked up at him. “Captain’s right. We ain’t just a crew anymore, we’re a family.”

 

From the stairs, River hummed happily. “Family.”

 

They all turned to look at her as she came down, playfully spinning as she stepped off the last step. “Simon and me. We’ve always needed a family.”

 

“Well you got one now, baby Albatross,” Mal announced, pulling the girl down on his lap. River froze and then realized that the Captain was holding her tenderly and lovingly and she relaxed.

 

“Bout them rules?” Kaylee reminded them nervously. 

 

“Oh there will be rules, baby girl,” Zoe promised, holding out her hand for Kaylee. The tiny engineer shuffled over to the tall, black women nervously. Zoe wrapped her arms around her and pulled Kaylee’s head down on her chest. “I think that your Daddy and I will sit down and think of them later.”

 

“Can we change the spankin’s thing?” Kaylee suggested cutely. They all laughed at the sentiment. 

 

Wash rubbed Kaylee’s back as she held onto Zoe. “Afraid not, little one.” 

 

River rested her head on Mal’s shoulder as Zoe held onto Kaylee. She smiled deeply and reached across the couch to take Jayne’s hand. He looked at her, puzzled for a moment, but then relaxed.

 

“Family,” she repeated. 

 

 


End file.
